Tales of Zestiria: Ring of Fate
by Alley Cat Sunflower
Summary: Semi-AU, following the bad ending. Once the Shepherd and his companions try to bring an end to the Age of Chaos, they find that they have instead unleashed an even greater evil upon Glenwood. If they want to secure a future, no past secrets can remain hidden, and each new truth discovered may bring either strength… or despair. T with M tendencies. I do not own Tales of Zestiria!
1. Prologue: In the Mountain Lodge

If Rose hadn't hated thunderstorms before, she definitely hated them now. And it wasn't because she was afraid, thank you very much, though Edna tried her hardest to tease her all the same. No—this was no ordinary fear, because fright alone could never inspire them all to be _this_ on edge.

Something about this weather was deeply wrong, and they all knew it; they just weren't talking about it, as if in hopes that ignoring all this rain would make the sun shine again. In fact, Lailah hadn't spoken a word since yesterday; even then, at first she'd only glanced up at the clouds rolling in with the thunder, her sea-green eyes veiled with some nameless emotion heavier than worry.

After all, they had found no triumph in their victory; only a restless sense of unease, the first sign of the coming storm. Sorey was the first to break the all-pervasive silence, speaking of last rites and a proper burial—grieving for their enemy as though he'd been a comrade. That impartial compassion was part of what Rose had always admired about Sorey, but that tight feeling in her gut told her _they shouldn't be here_. She could tell the others felt it too, staring up at the seething sky.

"Sorey," Lailah had murmured, so softly Rose could barely hear over the rumble of thunder in the distance, and rested her gentle hand on his shoulder. There was an urgency about her voice, her mannerisms, that the others had scarcely ever seen before. Yet she said only, "We should go," and vanished into him. The others had exchanged unreadable glances before following suit.

"We can come back," Rose had pointed out, half against her will, when Sorey still did not move. He'd hesitated before nodding once, seemingly with an effort, and offered his hand with a brave smile; Rose took it, and they took off. Charging with all their limited energy towards the cliffs, dodging raindrops until they were too thick and fast to avoid, they'd finally stumbled upon this godsend of a shack, situated at the bottom of a ridge. Empty, of course, and somewhat dilapidated; but certainly better than nothing.

And here they still sat, bone-tired from yesterday's fight and subsequent flight… and an almost sleepless night after that, listening to this river of rain pounding relentlessly down on the thatched roof. It was only because of Mikleo's generously applied seraphic artes that such a flimsy structure didn't give way under the weight of all that water.

A fact which Edna preferred to ignore, if her barbed criticism of his performance in yesterday's battle was anything to go by. At this point, Rose was about ready to head outside just to get away from the two of them for a moment. After all, polishing her knives did little to lessen the stress gradually knotting in the pit of her stomach, and she couldn't stand just _standing_ there, staring out the window with Sorey and Lailah. Some exercise would do her good; with any luck, Mikleo's magic extended far enough for her to walk around the lodge.

But as Rose poked her head out the door to test the waters, she found out the hard way that Aifread's Hunting Grounds had effectively become their own Great Morgan Falls. A sudden gust of wind brought with it enough rain to soak her hair almost through to the scalp, threatening to do the same to the rest of her if she ventured outside. It was almost as if the weather _wanted_ to trap them there…

Shuddering more at the thought of a sentient storm than the cold, Rose sank defeatedly to the bench in the tiny entryway, plucking up the nearest rag to dry her hair. "Exactly," Edna was saying, and Rose sighed; whatever she was talking about, the group could do without this kind of needling. "I guess you better get started."

"You heard her, Mikleo," added Dezel, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. Rose debated telling him he wasn't helping matters, but she was distracted by another flash of lightning, almost immediately followed by thunder. Those strikes were close, and getting closer since yesterday.

"What? Why me?" exclaimed Mikleo, clenching his fists.

"You really need to come up with new reactions," grinned Edna, somewhat unnervingly, and twirled her finger idly around the inside of her parasol handle in Rose's peripheral vision. "Your shtick is gonna get old." Rose narrowed her eyes; she ought to know that now wasn't the time to be picking petty fights like this. Was this just her way of keeping herself entertained, and the others distracted…?

Dezel chuckled once, and Rose realized that she must be right. Maybe it was better they bicker like this after all, if it kept their mind off speculating on the origins of this unnatural storm. Nobody seemed to want to mention it, anyway, as if saying anything might break some kind of protective spell. "No kidding," he remarked, licking his lips.

"What do you mean, my shtick?!" exploded Mikleo, stepping forward in defensive aggression—wide-eyed with indignation in the firelight. That fire was the only thing keeping them warm in this weather; their outer layers still weren't dry enough for them to wear, after yesterday's sprint through this torrential rain. Thank gods for seraphim, thought Rose fleetingly. (Unless that was redundant.)

"Meebo, you need to understand your position here," replied Edna with mock patience, continuing to trace her endless ellipses, but Rose was preoccupied with watching Lailah. She stood still as a statue, barely even breathing, and her glazed eyes seemed to be searching for something specific in the storm; whatever was happening, it was all too clear that she knew something about it. But there was no use asking, thought Rose somewhat bitterly, because if she refused to explain such a dire situation, it must be involved with her oath.

"No comment," snapped Mikleo, and Rose raised her head, eyes sliding over to Sorey. He'd barely spoken any more than Lailah, and he'd stayed up later than any of them, turning over something heavy in his mind; she doubted whether he'd gotten any sleep at all. (He hadn't even taken the cloth from around his neck, and that had been there since their arrival.) "You're just trying to derail the conversation, aren't you."

"No comment," echoed Edna pointedly; Rose pulled the towel down from her head and got to her feet, taking measured—almost tentative—steps towards Sorey. If the other seraphim weren't going to support him, then it fell to her to check in… and besides, if anyone could put two and two together, it was the Shepherd. He might have been innocent to the point of naiveté, but he was anything but unobservant.

"Same here," agreed Dezel, and Mikleo growled in response, but Rose was barely listening anymore. Sorey gave no indication that he sensed her approach, nor did he acknowledge her presence as she came to a halt just behind him. It was as if he stood in a dream—though this scenario might more accurately be called a nightmare.

"Is it gonna stop?" asked Rose softly, loath to startle him out of his thoughts; Sorey turned his head briefly to glance back at her, but returned his gaze watchfully to the window as thunder rolled once more. A Shepherd, especially one whom had apparently dabbled in meteorology back in Elysia, would know better than just about anyone else exactly how screwed they all were.

"Doesn't look like it," he replied, just as quietly, shaking his head; Rose's breath caught for reasons she didn't quite understand—confirmation of the suspicion she hadn't realized she'd had, perhaps. There was an almost unbearably long pause before he murmured darkly, "I wonder how much longer it's gonna rain."

Rose's eyes widened at his tone, and she traced his gaze out the window. Was something moving out there…? The thought had barely crossed her mind when the tremors started. More like a full-on earthquake, actually; Rose staggered, the floor heaving under her like the deck of a ship. As she tried to balance herself, the other seraphim cried out as if in pain (the sound almost drowned out by her own pounding pulse): Mikleo's protective magic faltered and finally failed.

Cold water burst through the gaps in the roof, and Rose gasped as it drenched her to the skin; Lailah's fire flickered out. As the rafters creaked and cracked ominously, threatening to collapse, she glanced around desperately, checking for an escape route—and discovered, with a shock as unpleasant as lightning or rainwater, that the seraphim were nowhere to be found. What could have happened to them?

"We gotta get out of here!" exclaimed Sorey urgently, drawing her out of her thoughts: he leapt up, drawing his sword to slash at the pole and reclaim his cape: Rose grabbed her jacket just as the roof finally caved in the middle. Thinking was too strong a word to describe what was going on in her mind; the only thing that mattered was _get out of the way_ —so she dove aside.

"Rose!" cried Sorey's voice, ringing in her dazed ears as she hit the ground hard (after a much longer airtime than she would have thought possible), and she shook her head in a futile attempt to try and clear it. Sitting up slowly, wincing, she realized that the ruined walls separated them, trapping them in each half-destroyed section of the house. But what almost made her heart stop was the realization that she'd landed about a foot away from the collapse.

"I'm fine," coughed Rose, when she had enough breath to speak, and made the mistake of looking through the slats that were once a roof. " _Totally_ fine," she clarified, able to make out some sort of behemoth looming above her, eerily lit by a purple glow. Was that a _dragon_? "Never been better."

"Rose," said Sorey, his voice full of relief; clearly, he wasn't seeing what she was seeing. "The seraphim. They're—" But he was cut off by… yeah, judging from the sound of that roar, that was definitely a dragon. And she'd thought her ears were ringing before!

Survival instincts kicking in, Rose staggered to her feet, gritting her teeth as a falling stone cracked against her head. Why was it waiting for them like this? It was practically right on top of them, certainly close enough to crush them; and even if it wasn't, why didn't the damn thing just incinerate them, or something? But she supposed there were bigger problems to worry about than why it _wasn't_ killing them.

Kicking her way through the weakened wall and ducking out before either it or the dragon could crush her, Rose hesitated. Should she save herself or go after Sorey? But she was spared making such a decision as he burst out of the wreckage with a swift arte and a cry just as quick.

"Let's just get out alive!" he yelled, his eyes burning with something like determination in the dim light, and Rose wasn't about to argue. She didn't like the look in that dragon's eyes, as if it was wondering which of them to eat first. (Not that two humans would do much in the way of sustenance for such an enormous beast.)

"This way!" she called, gesturing frantically as her voice was drowned out by thunder, and charged in the direction of Morgause—but as she glanced over her shoulder to make sure Sorey would follow, he only smiled after her, nodded, and ran the other way.

* * *

 _And with that prologue, dear readers, I bring to you yet another complex semi-AU! Just four little footnotes…_

 _An elaboration on the genre: Supernatural-Adventure is kind of generic, given that it describes the setting more than the interactions. Realistically, it's going to end up as Supernatural-Adventure-Fantasy-Spiritual-Drama-Hurt/Comfort-Romance-Friendship-Humor with maybe a little bit of Angst and/or Tragedy thrown in now and again. I find that it's a lot harder to narrow down more expansive stories into just a couple genres, especially one as convoluted as this._

 _A disclaimer regarding the pairing(s): Though gradual Dezel/Rose will be the primary focus relationship-wise, this story will also likely include the possibility of other ships. However, I'll try to keep the others much more lightly implied, so their interactions may be read as either romantic or not._

 _A warning about timeframes: As with all multi-chapter stories, I can't vouch for my update schedule; given that life is… life, I may vanish now and again. That said, I hope to be able to keep hiatuses to a minimum. We'll see if it works out that way._

 _And finally, an invitation: If any of you—however many of you there are; my estimate is in the single digits—leave reviews, I'll try to respond to you in the Author's Notes at the end of the chapter I publish next, so as to avoid the general clunkiness of the PM system (and to be able to reply to guests). So, feel free to review!_


	2. Chapter 1: Sans Seraph

It was rarely a good sign when Rose's first conscious thought was surprise that she was alive. And the only reason she even knew _that_ much was because there was no way her body could hurt this much if she was dead.

Unless this was hell, of course; Rose couldn't rule out the possibility, given that she was an assassin. Stirring faintly, she grimaced as her every muscle ached. _Ow_. Never mind; these were probably just the natural consequences of having fought her way through a thunderstorm, what might have been yesterday. But then again, who's to say this reality wasn't a hell unto itself?

Not only had Rose second-guessed her sense of direction and wound up lost amid the labyrinthine ridges of the Hunting Grounds—in what may as well have been the middle of the night, for all the light the sun could give—but the majority of her adrenaline had worn off within the hour. More exhausted than ever, she'd trudged wearily onward through thick mud and stinging rain for gods knew how long, until finally she'd opted to shelter under a rock jutting out from the side of a cliff. It wasn't the most comfortable place to rest, but with any luck, she'd stay hidden from…

That's right; the dragon! Reality crashing down on her with all the suddenness of lightning, Rose's eyes flew open in alarm: had Sorey managed to escape? And the seraphim; where were they? As she sat up a little too suddenly, her head spun so that she could barely take in her surroundings at first. The dizziness didn't get any better as she realized this was… Morgause.

Come to think of it, she really should have noticed the inlaid stone floor even before she opened her eyes; it was, after all, quite a contrast from her previous pillow of muddy rock. (Thank gods.) She sat in a vaguely familiar circular chamber, which she eventually recognized as the innermost sanctum by the guardian seraph's shrine. Puzzlingly, a dying campfire smoldered in the center of the engraved earth-symbol, shedding more heat than light. In theory, that meant Rose was not alone—or at least, she _hadn't_ been, as of several hours ago.

"Hello?" she asked, wincing as her head throbbed at the sound of her own voice… but there was no response. Had the seraphim brought her here? She gave a bitter chuckle even as the thought crossed her mind; that was probably wishful thinking. Sorey was their vessel, so if they were anywhere, they'd have to stay close to him. Besides, she thought wryly, Lailah could make a better fire than this.

"Anybody there?" she continued hoarsely, getting cautiously to her unsteady feet and resting a hand on the hilt of one of her knives. But there was still no answer, even when she glanced hopefully towards the empty shrine. Even that creeper, oh, what was his name—Pawan?—even _he_ would have been a sight for sore eyes at this point.

Rose sighed, forcing herself to relax, and approached the remains of the fire to warm herself. If anything had wanted to kill her, she reasoned, they could easily have done away with her while she was unconscious. Whatever had brought her here was obviously protecting her from the vengeful ghosts of all those abandoned children (Rose shuddered as she remembered them, glancing around warily). Or… maybe _they'd_ rescued her somehow—?

Okay, no. However grateful she was to be alive, Rose _really_ didn't want her life to have been saved by the dead. And anyway, speculation wouldn't do any good; it would be better to consider where to go from here. Stretching, and gritting her teeth as her entire body complained at the mild exertion, Rose seated herself carefully next to the fading fire.

Several minutes passed before she realized she wasn't thinking; her mind still seemed to be in a state of shock, not unlike her body. It practically hurt to form opinions; observations came much more easily—but she persevered. "Well, that was a thing," she announced. Rose hated talking to herself in front of other people, but it was undeniably easier to solidify her indistinct thoughts by speaking them aloud; she found herself momentarily grateful for her solitude. "I guess," she added, clearing her throat. "I don't know what kind of thing it was, but it happened. So… now what?"

What indeed. Here she sat, next to a mysterious fire an equally mysterious somebody had built in the middle of Morgause, probably several hours ago at this point. That wouldn't be too bad if Rose hadn't distinctly remembered _not_ arriving here before she apparently lost consciousness. To top it off, she had no idea where either Sorey or the seraphim were, but _someone_ had certainly been looking out for her if she'd survived. That, or she was just an incredibly lucky sleepwalker. Maybe she had built the fire herself, and just didn't remember it?

Rose's automatic laugh quickly turned into a cough, and she sobered quickly, lightheaded—but her heart felt heavier than ever. Was Sorey safe? Even setting aside the fact that he was the Shepherd and the world might end if he'd been corrupted or killed, the kid was like a brother to her, and she wanted him to be okay. "Maybe I should stay here in case he's looking for me," began Rose thoughtfully, but even as she spoke, her belly issued a lingering growl as if in a reminder or warning.

"Okay, yeah," agreed Rose, smiling wearily despite herself. How long had it been since she'd eaten a proper meal? "You're right, little dragon," she told her belly, half-affectionately. "Sorey and I got out of there with just the clothes and weapons on our backs. If we wanna live, both of us better head for Pendrago." Such a journey would already take a couple days, or perhaps longer if the storm still raged; neither she nor Sorey could risk spending any time looking for one another. She could only hope he recognized that too.

"Assuming that damn oversized lizard's not gonna starve me out, anyway," mumbled Rose, narrowing her eyes at the embers. That dragon was a piece of work for sure, maybe even more than others of its kind. "They told me dragons are fully hellionized seraphim," she added to herself, lying back gingerly to and stare at the ceiling. "But this one only showed up after we killed Heldalf, and he was a human. Keyword being _was_."

Could humans turn into dragons, too? The possibility was disquieting, but it didn't seem likely; Rose shook her head, wincing as it reminded her irritably to keep still. As arbitrary as the rules of malevolence seemed to be sometimes, there were at least a few constants—and dragons were probably one of them.

"So, our buddy Heldalf was involved with a super-powerful seraph," she mused. "Well, former seraph. Figures." Rose swallowed dryly, wishing she had some water, but soon remembered that it was probably still raining. "No wonder he was so hard to take down," she muttered, getting to her feet and making her agonizing way up the stairs.

She'd have expected no less from the Lord of Calamity, honestly. He'd certainly put up quite a fight before Rose and Sorey struck the finishing blow together, but something still nagged her in the back of her mind. It had been so… anticlimactic. Make no mistake, she was glad he had gone so quietly in the end; but she would have thought there would be so much more psychological torture before Heldalf let them kill him. Instead, there was only blood and silence.

Maybe he'd thought that was the best way to get to them, thought Rose uneasily. To say nothing, only let the Shepherd bury his blade in what used to be his heart; to snarl, half-smiling triumphantly, as he fell backwards to the ground. He hadn't needed words to tell them they'd made a mistake, and any ominous explanation he could have offered might have lessened the shock. That had truly been the calm before the storm.

And Lailah had known it. Rose let out a long breath, staggering up another, thankfully shorter, set of stairs. Come on; what had she told herself only a few minutes ago? _Speculation wouldn't do any good._ If she wanted answers, she'd have to find Sorey and the seraphim. And to live long enough to do that, she'd have to get to Pendrago. Her curiosity would have to wait; for now, survival took precedence.

The thunder had thankfully receded, and the sky was lighter than it had been yesterday, but it was still raining heavily enough for Rose to reach out cupped hands and sate her thirst, albeit over the course of several minutes. She may have been afraid to hope for the best, given the condition of the world around her; but the cold clear rainwater on her skin, soothing her sore throat, seemed to inspire in her a kind of… acceptance.

Staring watchfully up at the clouds, and seeing no sign of the dragon, Rose wondered what time it was. Early enough for her to make at least a little headway before dark, she determined. She almost turned back towards the circular room, but then remembered quite abruptly that she had nothing to take with her and no one to thank for her rescue, and managed an apprehensive smile.

With only herself to worry about, the road ahead would be long and lonely… but liberating, too. She'd never traveled on her own before; her friends had been with her every time—first the Windriders, and then Sorey and the seraphim. But they would all be waiting for her, right? And every one of them was worth fighting for, even if she had to go it alone for awhile.

Walking forward slowly, resolutely, Rose marveled as the burden in her heart lightened with every stumbling step. Was this what it was like for Sorey? He always took everything in stride, never failing to go with the flow; she'd never met anyone so affably unflappable. He may have been a naïve nerd, but he was still her hero, in a strange and sort of ironic way.

He'd better be alive, she thought, narrowing her eyes, or she'd bring him back just to kill him herself. After all, the world needed its Shepherd; without Sorey, it was basically game over. He couldn't—he _wouldn't_ —just abandon them all. And in her heart of hearts, Rose knew he hadn't. He was still out there, somewhere, beyond the haze of malevolence. He must be. And she would find him.

 _So who's afraid of the big bad dragon?_ laughed Rose to herself, glancing back at the trial-shrine behind her, and set off.

* * *

 _Slightly shorter chapter this time, but in all fairness, the adventure is only just getting started!_

 _ **Draconic:**_ _If I exceeded your expectations, I hope I haven't set the bar impossibly high for myself! But thank you. Sincerely. Characterization is extremely important to me, as you know, especially in alternate scenarios such as this one. Even if the rest of the story is mediocre, if I succeed in that, I'll be satisfied._


	3. Chapter 2: Not Alone

Barring that one time when she thought she was going to marry a prince, Rose had never been happier to see the forbidding walls of Pendrago in her life.

Then again, pretty much anything would be better than a third day of slogging through all this mud and water on a mostly empty stomach. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Rose didn't have enough money on hand to eat herself sick when she finally staggered into Gilione Inn; she could only afford a meager dinner with her room. But at least she had enough gald for _something_ ; thank goodness she carried at least a little on her person at all times, along with her Sparrowfeathers identification, just in case.

Of course, 'just in case' was generally better suited to the possibility of thieves than dragons—but either way, here she stood safely in the Pendrago inn with a room for the night. Not bad for a single girl with just the clothes on her back… and the knives that would soon be in her hands, if the innkeeper didn't tell her whether he'd seen Sorey.

"You oughta know better than that," he said obstinately, crossing his arms, and Rose stamped her foot. "You're a Sparrowfeather, right? You can't tell your customers about who bought what, in case someone's out to get 'em. It's the same with inns, y'know. Can't tell the patrons who's in what room without their permission." He paused, staring her down. "In advance."

"But this is important," snapped Rose, her fingers curling themselves into fists; if ever she'd needed to read the wind, it was now, but unfortunately… No. She'd best keep her mind on the situation at hand. "I'm not even asking if the Shepherd's staying here in the first place," she clarified, for what had to have been the third time. "I'm only asking if you've _seen_ him!"

The innkeeper only shook his head once more, but at least he wasn't dodging the subject like he had twice before. "Can't even tell you that," he told her solemnly. "People are panicking now that this storm's started up again. Also, there've been dragon sightings all over Glenwood, and everyone's so scared of it, the war's even died down a little." He paused, biting his lip. "And they say the Shepherd was directly involved, so a lot of folks are out for his blood."

So the people needed someone to blame, and their only hope of salvation was also the most likely candidate. Great. "But I'm not one of those people," Rose tried again, taking a step forward as earnestly as possible to make up for the lie she was about to tell. "I'm actually his wife," she told him confidentially. "And if you want proof, you can talk to Sergei Strelka of the Platinum Knights. He knows the whole story." Maybe a little name-dropping would work in her favor?

The innkeeper blinked in shock, scrutinizing her face carefully; Rose made sure to channel Sorey and appear as innocent as possible… to no avail. "I'd really like to believe you, but the Captain's in Lastonbell at the moment," he said finally, shaking his head. "Sorry. I can't risk it."

Rose bowed her head briefly. As obnoxious as it was, this steadfast refusal to impart even the slightest hint of his whereabouts would actually prove helpful if anybody actually did mean him harm. "Can you at _least_ tell me if anyone's come around asking for him?" she asked, running her restless hands along the counter. "Like, anybody… dangerous."

The innkeeper frowned, and Rose held her breath; he seemed to be thinking this time, but she was almost afraid to hope he'd actually be helpful at this point. "I've met plenty of folks who looked like they wanted to yell at him, maybe throw some stuff," he answered eventually. "But nobody who looked like they'd actually track him down or kill him."

Rose managed a half-smile, which he returned somewhat wearily. "Thanks anyway," she told him halfheartedly, plodding towards the hallway. Well, that was a waste of time and energy. But it didn't have to be, she realized suddenly, and whirled around briefly, visibly startling him. "Would you let me know if anyone like that stops by?" added Rose, as an afterthought.

"Sure," decided the innkeeper after a brief pause, busying himself behind the counter once more. "Just don't go picking any fights with 'em, hey?" he added, more sharply, and looked up at her. "If you're really his wife and all, getting yourself killed won't do either of you a bit of good."

Bless his heart; was he actually worried about her? "I swear to you and all the gods, I am _not_ going to die before I find him again," responded Rose, raising her eyebrows and meeting his searching gaze before turning away and walking away. If that little oath didn't reassure him, nothing would.

But as she fit her room key into the lock, the innkeeper's voice followed her down the hall. "I notice you didn't promise not to fight!" he called, but there was a note of good humor alongside the exasperation; Rose smiled faintly and stepped into the dimly lit room, closing the door behind her.

Letting out a long breath, she flung her sodden jacket on the ground; sinking onto her bed exhaustedly, she ran an agitated hand through her hair. _Now_ what? Unless she pickpocketed some unlucky passerby or tried raiding one of the nobles' mansions all by herself, she wouldn't have enough money on hand to stay another night after this one. If all went well, Sorey would have to show up tomorrow, preferably with seraphim in tow.

But what if he didn't? There were few things Rose hated more than dwelling on _what if_ s, but she was equally wary of keeping all her eggs in one basket. Or counting them before they hatched, for that matter. In this case, both metaphors applied: there was no guarantee Sorey would arrive safely, especially within the next day, so it was only logical that she find some other hope.

Rose gave a faint growl of frustration in the back of her throat. What other hope could there be, other than the Shepherd? It wasn't just her; the _world_ needed Sorey. If he hadn't come here, then where was he? Dead? Worse yet—hellionized? Or was he still wandering around Aifread's Hunting Grounds? Gods, maybe she should have just waited for him in Morgause after all. But there was still no guarantee he would have found her, and Rose couldn't have survived for long on her own like that…

She didn't realize how choked up she was until she tried to swallow and found that her throat was constricted. Even as this occurred to her, she noticed that her vision was blurry; were those tears? Blinking several times rapidly to clear her eyes, Rose sighed, frustrated with herself. This was _not_ the time to cry like a lost little girl. This was the time to plan her next move.

…No. She couldn't plan a damn thing without first accounting for Sorey. Otherwise, there were too many variables in this equation, and Rose had never been good with math in the first place. Letting out a noise somewhere between a groan and a whimper, Rose buried her face in her shaky hands, breathing in, and out. Inhaling. Exhaling. (Sobbing.)

"Where the hell _are_ you guys?" she asked aloud, dropping her hands helplessly to her lap and scowling fiercely at the wall. "I tried to do the right thing," she added, her voice trembling as much as her restless fingers. "I thought you'd come here, too. But did I abandon you?" she continued desperately. "Did I leave you all to—to die, while I just ran away?"

A single tear escaped, and Rose rubbed her cheek crossly. Much to her dismay, it looked like she'd have to wade through the rest of her guilt if she wanted to move forward, much like the mud and floods that had stretched between her and Pendrago; giving a shuddering sigh, she supposed she may as well get it all out of her system now, while she was alone.

"Some Squire I am," she half-laughed, crossing her arms and staring at the floor, and what surprised her most was how much she meant it. "I had _one job_ , and I couldn't even do that. I left Sorey to deal with that dragon alone, and the gods only know where the seraphim got off t—"

The word was cut off by a jump and a gasp as a hand rested on her shoulder; leaping to her feet, she whirled around to find… nothing. Her heart seemed to freeze, and her blood ran cold; she backed away, grasping shakily for her knives. Trying not to think about whether or not stabbing a ghost would actually have any effect, she squinted at her bed, taking a combat stance and concentrating with all her might on perceiving the presence that had interrupted her.

Gradually, a motionless blur of black and green and white and tan defined itself; it did seem a little sinister, somehow, but it wasn't aggressive. Besides, she added to herself, frowning slightly as a new realization crossed her mind, whatever it was felt far too familiar for it to be a threat. As if her own vague recognition had triggered it, the shape of a seraph came abruptly into focus, and Rose's eyes widened in a stunned realization; she dropped her knives before she could even sheathe them. That was…

"Dezel!" she exclaimed, charging him and giving him a flying tackle-hug onto her bed. She barely noticed that she had knocked his hat off; the same could not be said for the seraph, as he grasped at it just as it fell to the floor, but (to Rose's astonishment) did not try to throw her off so he could retrieve it.

"Hello to you, too," he growled resignedly, lying spread-eagled on his back and staring sightlessly at the ceiling: Rose couldn't help but grin, brimful of newfound hope, as she pushed herself up to gaze down at him. If one of the Sub Lords had survived without being corrupted or killed, then Sorey must be alive, nearby, and pure! "Now get _off_ ," added Dezel more insistently, when she didn't move.

"Only if you promise not to leave me again," Rose told him, looking him sharply in the eye. Not that eye contact mattered much, since his were closed and blind anyway; but he could probably sense her watching him, and that was good enough for her. She supposed it was a little selfish to ask him to stay with her when she wasn't even his vessel, but at the same time… well, she'd been alone for several more days than she wanted to be; at this point, any company was good company. Even Dezel's.

He sighed, stirring under her, and finally sat up, scooting himself out from under her. "No deal," he told her, and Rose sat back reluctantly on her haunches. So much for a position of power; even slouching like that, Dezel still sat a few inches taller than her. "I can't leave you _again_ if I never left you in the first place."

"What?" asked Rose, frowning and tilting her head. "But…"

"I've been with you ever since that dragon ambushed us," Dezel told her dryly, and Rose's eyes widened. All confusion at this revelation aside, had she done anything embarrassing besides talking to herself? She _really_ hoped she hadn't completely destroyed whatever semblance of respect he may or may not have had for her. "You just couldn't see me."

"Wh-what?" managed Rose, fear forcing her mind to the heart of the matter; that was about as disquieting as when she couldn't see the seraphim to begin with. If not more so, come to think of it: her resonance was supposedly on par with the Shepherd's, right? So… "Why not?"

There was an almost unbearably long pause before Dezel answered. "That hellion's domain was insanely powerful," he began eventually, turning his head to regard his hat on the floor with eerie accuracy. It was altogether too easy to forget he couldn't actually _see_ anything. "Even stronger than the Lord of Calamity's, from what I could tell."

"Is that even possible?" gasped Rose. Outclassing an entity like _that_ was no mean feat, from what she could tell. Wait, did that mean that they'd defeated the Lord of Calamity only for a _New and Improved_ one to take its place…? Oh no.

"I wouldn't have thought so, but apparently it is," responded Dezel, with a surprising amount of humor given the gravity of the situation. "It paralyzed your resonance for a much longer time than I'd have thought possible. Sorey tried to warn you, but…"

"Sorey!" exclaimed Rose, cutting him off, but he didn't seem to have been trying to finish the sentence anyway. "What happened to him? And the others?" she asked urgently. But, much to her exasperation, Dezel only gave a roll of his shoulders that might have been a shrug. "Where are they?" she persisted impatiently, moving cautiously closer to him.

That, at least, got a reaction. "Hell if I know," snapped Dezel, scooting warily away from her to lean against the headboard, and Rose sat back again, semi-satisfied. "I've been a little busy."

"Busy?" echoed Rose, almost too perplexed to be annoyed. Almost. "Doing _what_?" she added, narrowing her eyes. From what she had gleaned from Lailah's scattered explanations over the months, a seraph couldn't stray too far from their vessel—nor could said vessel be corrupted, lest the seraph become a hellion. Thus, Sorey's status as Shepherd notwithstanding, she'd have thought that first and foremost on Dezel's agenda would be protecting his vessel.

"Keeping _you_ safe, that's what," he retorted, and Rose blinked, taken aback. "I was a little preoccupied with saving your ass from the collapsing roof. Could've died in your place, not that you'd have noticed," he added sourly. "And after that, hauling you the rest of the way to Morgause was no bed of… damn it." Dezel massaged his forehead briefly with one hand, evidently unwilling to finish his sentence, and might have muttered something about Lailah.

"Oh," was all Rose could say, only half-listening, her thoughts whirling like the wind. He'd chosen to protect _her_ instead of his vessel? Not that she was complaining, of course; as creepy as it was that he'd been invisibly keeping an eye on her (so to speak), he'd probably saved her many more times than the couple he mentioned. "Thanks," she remarked, somewhat uncertainly.

To her surprise, Dezel only shook his head. "Don't thank me," he replied. "I told you once before, I'm only doing my job. Keeping you alive is the least I can do." Rose wanted more than anything to ask what kind of a job he was talking about—had Sorey paid him or something?—but as she thought of the Shepherd again, another question came to mind.

"But what about Sorey?" demanded Rose, and from what she could see under his shaggy hair, Dezel might have rolled his blind eyes. "Is he staying here, too? The innkeeper wouldn't tell me, and I can't read the wind."

There was a brief hesitation before he shook his head. "I can't sense him on the breeze. Wherever Sorey is, it's not here." But even as Rose let out a crestfallen breath, the corner of his mouth tugged up in her peripheral vision. "Stop worrying about him so much," he told her, not unkindly. "You know Mikleo would never let him check out before they've explored every ruin on Glenwood together, and probably dragged the rest of us along with them."

"Yeah, you're right," sighed Rose, and managed a small smile. "Sorry I freaked out on you like that," she mumbled, thoughts once again turning to whether she'd made even more of a fool of herself than usual over the last few days. She supposed it was sort of vain to worry about things like that when the world was probably ending, but at the same time, what _else_ could she do?

"You didn't know I was here," countered Dezel, and he might have quirked an eyebrow. Rose felt a sudden urge to brush his hair out of his face; blind or not, it would have been nice to see the _rest_ of his expression for once, if only to catch the nuance in his countenance. But her eyes snagged on his jagged teeth, barely showing, and she quickly thought better of it.

"I guess," responded Rose, tilting her head briefly in acknowledgment. "But still, I bet it was pretty pathetic to watch." And to _do_ ; just her luck that the one time she let herself succumb to her doubts, she hadn't been alone after all. Silently, she resolved never to lose it like that again, even if she thought no one was watching.

But Dezel only shrugged. "I've seen worse."

Rose decided it was best not to dwell on whatever he might have meant by that; she honestly wasn't sure she wanted to know. Realizing that her legs were falling asleep, she quickly readjusted her position, opting to sit cross-legged instead. "So… any idea where they're headed?" she asked. "In case they don't come here, I mean."

"Why would I know something like that?" returned Dezel. "I told you, I've been looking after you the entire time, and it's not like _you_ know what he's doing." He paused, baring his unnervingly sharp teeth in something between a smile and a grimace. "Or what you're doing, for that matter."

"Ouch," remarked Rose sarcastically, raising her eyebrows. "Come on, cut me some slack!" she exclaimed, leaning forward and punching his arm lightly. "You'd still know better than me, y'know." After all, he was a Sub Lord, and Rose was only a Squire; of the two of them, only one had lived in Sorey's head for awhile.

"That's not saying much, given the situation," pointed out Dezel, crossing his arms, an arrogant smirk playing on his lips; Rose heaved a somewhat exaggerated sigh. Of all the seraphim, why did it have to be _this_ one who followed her? Yet she couldn't keep from grinning; there was a distinctly humorous edge to his voice, and she could easily tell that his words had been meant in jest.

"Touché," replied Rose, crossing her arms, and his smile widened slightly.

"Anyway, we can worry about this in the morning," remarked Dezel, before Rose could say anything further, and she marveled at the speed and skill with which he wrested the subject from her grasp. So much for being a strong, silent type. "For now, you should get some rest. You're exhausted."

Though her first impulse was to argue, Rose knew in her heart that he was absolutely right, and couldn't prevent herself from proving his point… much to her annoyance. "Okay, fine," she yawned, stretching luxuriously. "But I'm gonna hold you to that," she added warningly, "so you better be here when I wake up."

Dezel gave a low chuckle, sliding down to lie on his back. "Don't worry," he told her, sinking slowly like the sun; Rose staunchly refused to move, so he directed his legs so that she sat between them instead of being dislodged. She narrowed her eyes; how _kind_ of him not to knock her off her own bed. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Good," she told him, standing on her knees and putting her hands on her hips as authoritatively as possible—not very, given her ratty clothing. "Now _move_."

Dezel only smiled faintly, his eyes closed. "I told you I'm not going anywhere, and I meant it." Staring down at him, struggling between fury and pity, Rose realized that he was probably just as tired as she was; he'd been with her the whole time, meaning that he hadn't had a vessel into which he could disappear. He'd slogged through just as much mud and water as she had, and probably slept far less.

But there was still one crucial reason why she deserved it more: "I paid for this bed," grunted Rose, cracking her aching knuckles threateningly. But Dezel didn't so much as stir, and she smiled; if he didn't want to take his last chance, so be it. "And damn it, I'm getting my money's worth tonight!" she exclaimed, and with that, she performed a ten-point belly flop onto Dezel's torso.

Unfortunately, this was not without its repercussions; she winced as he tensed suddenly, just as she touched down. Damn, this guy was _all_ muscle, wasn't he? That was not nearly as soft a landing as she anticipated. "Wh-what are you _doing_ —?" groaned Dezel, but Rose raised a hand to cover his mouth.

"Shush," she commanded sternly, removing her fingers from his lips very slowly to be sure he got the message. "Pillows don't talk." And, as if aspiring to be the best pillow he could possibly be, he relaxed quite abruptly beneath her.

Rose never would have expected someone as forbidding as Dezel to be this soft and warm; there was something oddly comforting about his presence, she realized (frowning slightly as she slid her arms around him in a kind of automatic embrace), though she couldn't pinpoint what exactly it was. He just had this _aura_ about him, like a security blanket. Like… a living memory…

"I'm not y—" he tried to say, interrupting her thoughts, and his voice sounded somewhat strangled, though she wasn't touching his throat.

"You got a problem or something?" snapped Rose, cutting him off. "I didn't buy this bed for _us_. I bought it for _me_. So if you're gonna stay here, you're gonna be my pillow, and you're gonna deal with it." She readjusted herself briefly, tightening her grip around him as a warning. "Now shut up."

And, for a shining moment, she thought she was victorious; now there was only the rain, but precipitation on a proper rooftop was actually kind of relaxing. That, combined with the inexplicably comforting sensation of Dezel breathing below her (which she sleepily attributed to relief that she wasn't alone anymore), was almost enough to—

"So I'm just a pillow now, huh," he mumbled.

"Shut _up_ ," growled Rose, squeezing him suddenly, and Dezel finally fell silent, but for his strong and steady heartbeat under her ear: _here_ was her hope, thought Rose, and she let herself slip away.

* * *

 _Dezel gained title: "Flowerbed Pillow"!_

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Yes! Definitely! If you haven't already, look up the bad ending. I actually kinda like it better than the canon ending, but maybe that's just because my favorite character was still alive by that point. (I'm a shallow fan with obvious motives; so sue me.) Point being, I'm really glad you want more, because that's something I can give you!_


	4. Chapter 3: The Road to Readiness

One would have thought that a seraph's blessed domain would keep the nightmares away, but Rose still dreamed of dragons—indistinct shapes in the shadows, scales and strings of saliva gleaming in the moonlight. And when she awakened, it was to the sound of a rumbling growl; she froze, lifting her head to free both ears, her pulse slowing as she held her breath. If she just lay still enough, it wouldn't find her…

Only after a few terrified moments did Rose convince her stiffened muscles to relax, and she buried her face in her pillow again, readjusting her hold; it was probably just distant thunder. But a brief chuckle next to her ear startled her, and she jumped, remembering abruptly that her pillow was of the sentient variety. "Sounds like it's time for breakfast," remarked Dezel, his voice edged with a smile, and Rose frowned. Had that been her _stomach_?

"Best idea I've heard all day," yawned Rose, pushing herself off his chest so that she could sit up and stretch. It was also the _only_ idea she'd heard all day, but that was really beside the point. "How'd you sleep?" she added, as an afterthought. It had been a few mornings since she'd had anyone to ask, after all.

"Better than you, from the looks of things," returned Dezel, swinging his legs off the side of the bed and getting to his feet; Rose scowled at his back. What was _that_ supposed to mean? "But still not especially—well," he added, cracking his back; Rose winced in sympathy, remembering that even over the past few days, he probably wasn't used to sleeping in a physical form. After stooping to pick up his hat, Dezel brushed it off and placed it carefully on his head.

"You gonna eat with me?" asked Rose, sliding to her feet and marching towards the door with high spirits. Today was a new day, and whether Sorey showed up or not, she at least had someone to help her out a little. Assuming he decided to cooperate, of course; Dezel had always struck her as a little wayward for a Sub Lord.

"If you can afford it, then sure," responded Dezel, and Rose stopped short with her hand on the doorknob. Her gald was all but gone at this point, spent on last night's inadequate supper and this cramped little room. She'd hardly have enough for kitchen scraps, much less a meal—let alone a second serving. How could she possibly twist a situation like this to her advantage…?

Dezel scoffed behind her. "You're the leader of the shrewdest two-faced guild on the continent," he pointed out, and whether he was reading her thoughts or merely her expression, Rose started, turning her head to look back at him with narrowed eyes. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

"Thanks for the help," she growled, clenching her free fist—but even as the words left her mouth, an idea struck her. She was the leader of the Sparrowfeathers, whose business was valued wherever they went, and barter was still common in the Rolancian marketplace. If she needed to buy anything, Rose could sign off some makeshift coupons and use them instead of gald…!

"You're welcome," replied Dezel dryly, and Rose made an annoyed noise of concession in the back of her throat as she opened the door and headed out into the lobby, leaving him to close it after her; no matter how tempting it was to shut the door in his face, she actually needed him, and they both knew it.

"Morning, Mrs. Shepherd," greeted the innkeeper, leaning boredly against the counter; Rose supposed in the back of her mind that there wasn't much business for inns when the weather was like this, and wondered fleetingly how on earth he'd kept up his livelihood throughout Cardinal Forton's year-long rain dance. "Nobody's shown up since last night, before you ask," he added, as Rose opened her mouth. "So, you heading out?"

She shook her head. "Listen," she began uncertainly, after a short pause. "I'm not just any old Sparrowfeather; I'm actually their boss." The innkeeper raised his eyebrows in what might have been either surprise or disbelief, but said nothing. "So, if you fix me up with two helpings of whatever's handy, then I'll fix you up with a coupon." She raised a hand to her chin thoughtfully. "Buy anything from us totaling five hundred gald or less, and it's free," she decided after a brief pause.

"Deal," declared the innkeeper, beaming, and Rose blinked, scribbling the proper bargain on a proffered scrap of paper. Was it really that easy? Well, she supposed occasions like this were why the Sparrowfeathers had always worked so hard to build relationships with their customers. (That, and so they'd never suspect that they were actually the Scattered Bones.) "Two orders of waffles, coming right up!"

Dezel scuffed a foot against the ground and muttered something about waffles; Rose grinned. "What, are you a pancake guy or something?" she asked quietly, but rather than answer, he simply made a noise of exasperation in the back of his throat and turned away. "Hey, could you make some pancakes too?" she called through the doorway to the kitchen: the innkeeper flashed her a brief thumbs-up and a smile.

"Okay, so I'm already gonna look like I'm making half my breakfast disappear into thin air," Rose told Dezel, leading the way to the table farthest from the counter and seating herself so that she faced the kitchen, "so we better get the talking part out of the way before he comes back out and starts off thinking I'm insane."

"Before he _realizes_ you're insane, you mean," Dezel told her, offering a faint smile as he sat across from her and leaned back nonchalantly. "Pretty sure by normal human standards, you've been officially crazy since the day you became Sorey's Squire."

Rose rolled her eyes. "You're not helping," she pointed out, leaning forward on her elbows. "Anyway, the point is, we need a plan. Sorey isn't here, and I need to find him so we can hurry up and defeat this stupid dragon before it destroys us all." She shivered despite herself, the lingering remnants of half-forgotten nightmares drifting through her mind.

Dezel tilted his head slightly, running his hand along the brim of his hat. "I didn't want to bring this up last night, but there's no guarantee Sorey's headed this way to begin with," he remarked thoughtfully. "He has three seraphim to look after him, a lifetime of living off the land, and a head start of several miles. It's… possible… that he made straight for Lastonbell with no detours."

"Why would he do that?" asked Rose, torn between feeling betrayed and annoyed. If that was really true, the others had pretty much abandoned _her_ instead of the other way around, and the only one who gave a damn was—oddly enough— _Dezel_. Even if he'd always been a little overprotective (for reasons he flatly refused to discuss whenever she tried to address the subject), she wouldn't have thought a seraph as aloof as he would have risked separating from his vessel on her account.

"I don't _know_ ," growled Dezel, and Rose remembered too late that just because he was a Sub Lord didn't mean he had any idea what the Shepherd was thinking; she bowed her head in a brief gesture of apology. "But from what I could tell, the wind indicated that the dragon was headed northward," he continued. "Towards Hyland… and Elysia."

Rose's eyes widened. "So you think Sorey's headed up there to check in on his family?" she asked, clasping her hands in thought. That would certainly make sense, but it would also make meeting up with them a lot more complicated.

Dezel gave a long sigh. "He and Mikleo talk a lot about their folks back home," he replied. "And they're both as softhearted as they come, even if they like to pretend otherwise—a certain water seraph in particular," he added, his words accompanied by a half-smile. "I wouldn't put it past them to drop everything and run to Elysia even if the hellion _hadn't_ headed that way. As it is, now they can kill two dragons with one stone." He paused grimly. "If they're lucky."

"And they expect me to just follow their trail, is that it?" demanded Rose, clenching her fists. "They'll need my help if they want to slay any dragons! Sorey isn't strong enough to handle a situation like that without us around to help."

"You said it," agreed Dezel, just as the apron-wearing innkeeper emerged from the kitchen, bearing a platter piled high with pancakes and waffles. Rose's mouth dropped open; if _that_ was whatever was handy, and if he was able to whip up a couple batches so quickly, the innkeeper must have had lots of leftover batter from his own breakfast.

There was no butter or syrup, she noticed, somewhat disappointedly; but sustenance was sustenance. Smiling at the innkeeper to thank him, Rose turned her attention hungrily to breakfast, but kept half an eye on him as he retreated back into the kitchen to clean up.

"So," she said thickly, between (and sometimes during) ravenous bites, "I'd like to stay in Pendrago for now, in case Sorey turns up today. That way, we can also rest and restock for the journey ahead." After swallowing a mouthful of waffle, Rose found it much easier to articulate. "But if he still doesn't show, we'll leave for Lastonbell first thing tomorrow and go from there. Sound good?"

Dezel only nodded mutely, his mouth stuffed too full of pancakes for him to say anything, and for one reason or another, Rose found herself snickering aloud. Maybe she was just making up for lost time, but her giggle quickly became a gale of laughter as Dezel—still unable to speak for chewing—sat back, crossed his arms, and sulked. It was just so… _ridiculous_.

"What's so funny?" asked the innkeeper curiously, poking his head out from the kitchen, but his comment only made Rose laugh until she choked.

* * *

A seraph-given Heimlich maneuver, seventeen coupons sold door-to-door, a three-hour shopping spree, a bath, and an afternoon nap later, Rose might have felt ready to take on the world, if only Dezel would stop ignoring her.

"What would I tell Sorey and the others if you'd died choking on a _waffle_?" he'd hissed in her ear, but she knew it was only worry that made him so angry. He hadn't moved since her airway had cleared, supporting her from behind; even through her own lingering tremors, Rose could tell he was extremely tense.

So, of course, she had grinned up at him weakly. She'd been laughing at him, so wouldn't it be partially his fault? "Murderer," she teased him hoarsely, and he only growled in response, letting go of her somewhat abruptly. After that, he'd spoken to her as little as possible—affirmatives, negatives, and _whatever_ s, most of which he preferred to indicate by gesturing.

Now, as Rose paced restlessly around her tiny room that evening, Dezel lay sprawled on the bed with his legs dangling off the edge; he'd thrown his arms thrown over his eyes, his hat resting next to him. Yet he didn't seem to be asleep; merely concentrating, though she couldn't imagine what he could be focusing on so intently. (She wished he'd _talk_ to her about it, she realized, glancing over at him.)

But a knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts, and the innkeeper's voice stammered, "E-excuse me." Rose halted abruptly, only a step or two away from the door; she hadn't seen him since she'd almost choked that morning, when he'd taken a few steps forward as if to help—but of course, Dezel got there first. The poor innkeeper had just stopped and stared before fleeing back into the kitchen; Rose could only imagine what he'd seen. Or, more accurately, _hadn't_ seen.

"There's something you should know," he continued as Rose opened the door a crack; Dezel sat up in her peripheral vision, apparently interested. "Some lunatic just stopped by. He wasn't looking for the Shepherd, but he did ask if I'd seen somebody called the Squire." He shook his head disbelievingly, though unable to meet Rose's eyes. "I've never heard of the Squire, and I told him so, but he said not to lie to him. He said he could… 'smell her'." The innkeeper shuddered visibly. "And I—I think he might have meant _you_."

Rose's eyes widened. "A hellion," she whispered, glancing back at Dezel, whose lip curled in the beginnings of a snarl. It must be a relatively powerful one, too, if someone like the innkeeper could perceive it. "Did he say anything else?" she added urgently.

But he only shook his head after a brief hesitation. "N-not to me, no," he replied uncertainly, interlacing his fingers anxiously before him and bowing his head. "He did mutter something about the wind under his breath, but it… didn't make sense enough for me to follow." He scuffed a foot against the ground. "Sorry."

Letting out a long breath, Rose nodded resolutely. "Thanks for letting me know," she told him distractedly, already formulating a plan of action. If the hellion was after her, she'd have to lure it to a more open space and… well, hopefully Squires could wield the power of purification without their Shepherd present.

"You're… really the Shepherd's wife, aren't you?" asked the innkeeper, wide-eyed in what might have been either awe or fear. "And that was a _seraph_ with you, wasn't it? This morning, I mean," he added, as if clarification was necessary, and Rose grimaced. Now was hardly a good time for an interview.

"Yes," answered Rose, reluctantly, and crossed her arms with ill-disguised impatience. Fortunately, she didn't have to find the words to ask the innkeeper to let her think; he understood her body language, swallowed, and hurried away, mumbling something that might have been an apology as he went.

By the time Rose turned around to consult with her companion, Dezel had lain back again as though nothing had happened. "What are you doing?" she demanded, bristling. "Come on, we gotta find that hellion before it finds me!" she added more insistently; Dezel did not break the silence stretching between them. But just as Rose was about to explode with frustration and demand that he make an effort to actually communicate for once—he finally spoke.

It may not have been a one-word response this time, but it was no less aggravating than anything he had offered her before. "It's too dangerous," he told her, with an infuriating sense of finality; she clenched her fists, gritting her teeth with the effort of not telling him exactly where he could stick all that so-called danger. "You should try to get a good night's sleep," he added, shifting his position on the bed and moving his hat as if to accommodate her. "We'll have to start early tomorrow."

"Too dangerous?" echoed Rose furiously, marching over to stand before him with her hands on her hips. "You think hunting down a single hellion is more dangerous than just letting it come after me? It was _here_ , Dezel!" An unpleasant chill flooded her stomach as she spoke; only a door or two, and less than about twenty feet, had separated her from certain death, but for the grace of Lady Luck. That settled it; if she wanted to get any sleep tonight, she'd have to take the fight to _it_.

Dezel swung his feet to the side of the bed and sat forward, baring his jagged teeth, and Rose recoiled, taking an automatic step back. Not that she felt especially threatened, but he could be… intimidating. "I'm _not_ just letting it come after you," he snapped. "I've been manipulating the wind for hours now, scattering your scent to keep it off our trail." He sighed heavily. "That's why it didn't find us here."

Rose glared down at him, at a loss for words. That kind of secrecy could have gotten them killed if his power had faltered—and, to make matters worse, his was a temporary and insufficient solution. Whether he chose to admit it or not, Dezel hadn't been at his full strength ever since that huge dragon showed up, and she very much doubted whether he would be able to keep any hellions at bay in his sleep. And if they weren't leaving till morning, then he'd have to exhaust himself even more by pulling an extremely inadvisable all-nighter.

"Look, is it another dragon or something?" retorted Rose, crossing her arms and looking him full in the face as challengingly as she dared. He ought to know that if he told her anything was too difficult or dangerous, it would only make her want to prove him wrong. Especially since she _really_ preferred to neutralize threats instead of just redirecting them.

"No," began Dezel warily, donning his hat and getting to his feet, "but…"

"Then we're going after it," Rose told him, prodding his chest sharply; Dezel swatted her hand away, scowling, and opened his mouth to argue—but she cut him off before he could even start. "End of discussion. Let's go." And, taking his wrist, she dragged him towards the door, ignoring his incoherent protests.

But she underestimated the strength of Dezel's objections; he wrested his arm from her tenacious grasp, taking her shoulders and throwing her aside so that he stood between her and the door: she staggered, whirling around angrily and curling her fingers into fists, but stopped dead as he spoke. "It's Lunarre," he told her shortly, and Rose's eyes widened in shock. "Are you prepared to face him?"

"Lu—Lunarre?" she managed, head spinning, and her hands slackened. No, it couldn't be. It was true that she hadn't seen him since he'd broken free of his bonds and disappeared several months ago; but for him to have become a hellion this powerful, he must harbor some considerable resentment. Against the Sparrowfeathers, against the Scattered Bones… against _her_.

Dezel nodded, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe with clearly concerned countenance, and Rose frowned slightly, momentarily drawn out of her thoughts. Had he concealed Lunarre's presence from her out of worry that she wouldn't be able to face a former comrade? How did they know each other to begin with? She still hardly knew the first thing about his past; it wasn't something he liked talking about, but if his path had crossed with Lunarre's, then he must have been traveling with…

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm down and focus. He'd asked her a question, after all. If the hellion they were looking for was really Lunarre, she wouldn't be any less troubled until she saw the truth for herself. Braving a resolute smile, Rose gazed up at Dezel: he looked away with an indistinct noise of resignation.

"We both know you can't protect me forever," she returned, as gently as she could, and he gave a long sigh, shaking his head exasperatedly. "Not from a distance, anyway. So thanks for the warning, but I'll be fine." Rose gave him a light push in an attempt to be playful, trying to distract herself from the inevitability of pain; she could tell from Dezel's somber expression that he understood… perhaps better than he should. "As long as you're along for the ride."

"Just try and stop me," he murmured, darkly, and opened the door.

* * *

 _Funny how my writing process telescopes like this. The events that will finally be happening next chapter were originally supposed to happen last chapter. At least I seem to be on enough of a roll with the updating that you probably won't have to wait too long for something to happen! In the meantime, here's more dialogue and development. Here's hoping it doesn't read too much as filler._

 _ **bladegryphon:**_ _Thank you! Though, I must say that canon-Dezel probably wouldn't appreciate what my Rose has done to his fanon counterpart thus far._

 _ **mabel-but-slytherin:**_ _Wow, thanks so much! I agree that, despite its… numerous… flaws, this fandom does need more creative attention; and as much as I love Dezel/Rose, I'm really glad I'm not coming on too strong just yet. Hope I didn't just jinx it…  
_


	5. Chapter 4: Stray

As unpleasant as it was, Rose had never been so grateful to be ambushed, because she couldn't have stood around on this empty stage in such a dark and stormy night for much longer. (Not without getting cold feet in more senses than the one, anyway.) But Dezel had stilled his protective winds just as they'd arrived in the deserted plaza—and accordingly, it had only taken their quarry a few minutes to track them down.

"Long time no see, _boss_ ," called a familiar voice mockingly from the shadows, and no amount of preparation could prevent Rose from gasping as Lunarre's lanky form slunk into view. The flickering streetlights cast a sinister golden glow on the scene, dimly illuminating the relentless rain; the more Rose stared at him, aghast, the more she noticed his hellionized features.

His blonde hair, in its traditional ponytail, had always been bushy; but now, it seemed disproportionate to the rest of his body. His ears had elongated into points, rimmed in red; his mouth had widened, with cuspids sharper even than Dezel's; and his slit-pupilled eyes were set obliquely in his skull. Even as Rose scanned Lunarre's face for any last remnant of his humanity, he chuckled, and she shivered. How long had he been like this?

"Oh, dear, look at that face!" he exclaimed, licking his lips. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were _scared_ ," he jeered, and Dezel assumed a combat stance as Lunarre took another step forward: after a slight hesitation, Rose drew her knives. He was just a hellion, she told herself firmly, focusing on his monstrous form. He wasn't a part of her family anymore.

"What do you want?" she demanded, pointing one of her knives at him and surprising herself with her own steadiness. Even for the sake of vengeance, Lunarre wasn't the kind to take fate into his own hands like this. But he only raised his arms in a gesture of mock surrender, his grin widening; Rose narrowed her eyes, trying again. "Why are you looking for me?"

Lunarre hugged himself, initially shaking with the effort of suppressing his laughter, but a harsh guffaw burst out as he spoke. "I _thought_ skipping dinner would work out in my favor," he replied, voice dripping with infuriatingly self-righteous satisfaction; after a moment of confusion, Rose realized with an unpleasant jolt that he must be referring to having left the innkeeper alive. "And, as it turns out, I was right. Lucky me!" He licked his lips again, looking her up and down hungrily.

"Answer the question," snapped Dezel, and Lunarre's eyes widened as his focus was drawn away, his smile becoming a snarl. Rose glanced over at Dezel with some surprise to find his every muscle tense as he bared his teeth in a clear threat, poised to strike at any moment. The message was clear: _back off_.

Lunarre inclined his head, his grin returning in full force: Rose found herself more unnerved by his mood swings than that sharp-toothed smile. "You bind me hand and foot and abandon me to my fate, and then you ask why I want revenge?" he sneered, snickering. "Do forgive me for saying so, boss, but that's _awfully_ naïve of you."

"You deserved worse," shot back Dezel, and Lunarre narrowed his eyes. "You were already a hellion by then. I'd have killed you myself if _she_ hadn't decided to spare your unworthy life." Rose could only stare between the two of them, her thoughts whirling; they seemed to know one another on more than just a superficial level. And why would he have become a hellion before she even imprisoned him?

"Oh, of course," Lunarre snorted, looking at Dezel disdainfully out the corner of his eye, and his disquieting smile made another appearance. "Because she's got you on a leash, doesn't she? And yet you're leading _her_ , under the pretense of protection." Rose frowned as Dezel glowered down at him. "Tell me, who's really the boss here?" continued Lunarre, picking at his belt lazily. "I was never sure, myself."

Rather than respond in words, Dezel flicked out a furious pendulum in something of a warning shot; Lunarre dodged it with ease, tossing his head back briefly to laugh. "Ah, what exquisite anger," he purred, lifting a delicate hand and gazing at it intently; Rose's grip on her knives tightened in preparation for battle. "It makes me so… _hungry_!"

And with that, he leapt impossibly high to land between the two of them, his hand blazing with blue fire. Rose and Dezel instinctively dodged in different directions as Lunarre slammed his fist into the ground: a sphere of intense light and heat burst outwards, and Rose backed up swiftly, trying desperately to develop a new plan. How could he harness such powerful artes so effortlessly?

"What's wrong, boss?" taunted Lunarre, hurling another ball of fire her way: Rose's impeccably honed reflexes enabled her to dodge and slash even as her mind seemed to separate from her body, soaring around the battlefield. Dezel directed his whips as fluidly as usual from the other side, Lunarre bobbing and weaving to avoid them—but as Rose sent a Double Demon Fang his way, he leapt upward with a frustrated growl and sent a blast of flames down at Dezel.

After diving aside amid the falling rain and rising steam, the seraph straightened up almost immediately and wrapped one of his pendulums around Lunarre's wrist, jerking it sharply down to fling him into the stage; he grunted with the force of impact, his voice edged with a whine. As Lunarre rolled to dodge a second strike from Dezel's other whip, Rose took the opportunity to lunge forward and strike, plunging her knife downwards in the hopes of ending this quickly.

But Lunarre grinned, using the cord to yank Dezel off balance, and dragged him into Rose's path: she darted out of his way, almost stumbling, and Lunarre got to his feet as Dezel retracted the line. As he struggled to stand up, Lunarre stomped on his diaphgram with his steel-soled boot, and he spasmed. Seized by fury, Rose charged forward with a battle cry, ready to stab him—but her eyes snagged on Dezel as he shook his head, mouthing something urgently.

 _His name_ , realized Rose, eyes widening; she halted. She had forgotten that they could still use their secret weapon; if Dezel was still pure, they must be within his vessel's domain, so they should still have the power of armatization. Sheathing her knives, she nodded, taking a deep breath and raising her hand. Screeching with gleeful laughter at his adversary's apparent defeat, Lunarre brought down fists full of flames in a finishing blow, but Rose was already yelling, Dezel coughing weakly along with her: **"Lukeim Yurlin!"**

She gasped sharply as their beings combined, her head spinning: his pain stabbed into her stomach momentarily before her own life force soothed it. Experiencing a seraph's injuries as their life forces collided could sometimes come as a shock, but even this peculiar dizziness wasn't what had startled her this time. Rather, it was her knife-wings, flickering in her peripheral vision; she and Dezel simultaneously realized with some alarm that they were made of… _light_. Why—?

Lunarre cowered in their eerie green glow, assuming a more defensive stance, and Rose took advantage of his distraction at Dezel's urging. She flipped forward to kick him, rising up immediately afterwards to spin a razor-sharp tornado into existence; hovering in midair, Rose finally released a hail of small, shining blades: Lunarre, dazed from her earlier onslaught, could only throw his arms up in a desperate attempt to protect himself, letting out a shriek through clenched teeth as several of them found their marks.

As Rose landed lightly on her feet, Dezel left her body, and she swayed in place, almost staggering—her lightheadedness intensifying instead of vanishing. ( _That_ wasn't supposed to happen, she thought, somewhat hazily.) As the blades of light vanished, leaving only the wounds they had inflicted, Dezel bound Lunarre's hands with both pendulums, hauling him up into a kneeling position by the ponytail and glancing over at Rose.

There was no time for weakness, she told herself resolutely, walking forward slowly and sinking to one knee. It was high time she had a little talk with Lunarre. Looking him in the eye with some difficulty, Rose took a deep breath in a futile attempt to clear her head and asked again, softly, "Why?"

There was a brief pause before Lunarre spat in her face, struggling against his bonds… but Dezel held him steady, wincing in sympathetic disgust as Rose scrubbed at her cheek, grateful for the rain to help her along. "I just want you to _hurt_ ," he hissed, glaring up at her with hatred in his golden gaze. "Hurt like I hurt. That's all there is to it."

Rose shook her head. "I know you better than that," she returned, somewhat shakily, and cleared her throat. His personality hadn't changed since he'd become a hellion; even with this power, he had no motivations of his own. "You've always been too much of a coward to take charge of your own destiny. I want to know who you answer to, and _their_ purpose."

As Rose drew one of her knives slowly, Lunarre's eyes widened in fear, catching on the gleam in the streetlamp… but it quickly hardened into anger, and he bared his teeth. "It's no concern of yours," he snarled, resuming his endeavor to free himself; but Dezel yanked on his hair, and he yelped, recoiling. "She's an old acquaintance, nothing more!"

Swallowing, Rose recognized abruptly that her strength seemed to be running out with her every heartbeat, as though some sort of shock was setting in; she needed Lunarre to talk, and fast. "I wonder if you have a heart anymore?" she asked, touching the point of her knife to his chest lightly. Though he initially remained silent, he flinched as she applied a little more pressure—just enough to poke through the fabric and touch his pale skin.

"You of all people should know what it's like to be chosen," grimaced Lunarre, making a desperate effort to scoot away from Rose's blade. "Except _my_ seraph actually tells me what to do," he added, tilting his head back to smile up at Dezel, addressing his next words to him. "Not like you, so silent and secretive… so many things you haven't said. So many times you've pulled the strings like she's just your pretty little puppet."

" _What_?" asked Rose, frowning in confusion. Did he have to talk in riddles when she could barely understand straight speech as it was? But Dezel tightened the cords, his expression suddenly livid. Had he understood…?

No; he was evidently thinking about something else. "Tell me where your master is," ordered Dezel, with an intensity Rose couldn't place. So in addition to having history with Lunarre, he also knew (or at least knew _of_ ) the person he was talking about: she made a mental note to ask about that when she didn't feel like she was about to pass out.

Lunarre beamed up at him, running his pointed tongue along his top teeth. "If you _really_ want to see her, the boss can be your offering," he responded, wiggling happily in place as if wagging an invisible tail, and Dezel once again grasped him by the hair; he winced, stilling, but continued with an effort. "A sacrifice in the name of the new Lord of Calamity!"

"Like hell!" shot back Dezel fiercely, and turned back to Rose, who knelt there, half-dazed. "Just kill him, Rose," he urged her, pulling harder on Lunarre's ponytail, exposing his throat for her to slit (Lunarre gave a sound between a growl and a whine); Rose wavered, squeezing her eyes shut and forcing them open again, unable to convince her muscles to move. "He's not going to say any more, even if we torture him for it."

"Ooh, you're a sharp one!" giggled Lunarre, albeit somewhat nervously—but the strength had gone from Rose's limbs: finally losing her balance, she slumped over with a brief exhalation, barely hearing Dezel call her name anxiously. What was going on? Something must be wrong with the armatus; it _had_ looked different, and she hadn't felt like this before she'd enacted it. But Dezel still seemed fine, so…

Wait, what was he doing? Glancing between Rose and Lunarre, he made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and retracted his pendulums abruptly. After kicking his former captive forward off the stage, hard, he sank to one knee next to Rose, pulling her up with odd tenderness to lean against his leg. Though he murmured something that sounded like it might be a question, Rose didn't catch the words, preoccupied with watching Lunarre.

"Better keep looking over your shoulder, boss," laughed Lunarre, bending double with mirth… but as he straightened up, he grit his teeth in pain, his next words a savage bark. "I'm gonna get you next time," he panted, clutching a wound in his side. "I'll follow you to the ends of the earth and beyond, for as long as it takes you to _fall_!"

And just like that, Lunarre was gone; she never should have taught him that trick, thought Rose, grimacing. "Are you all right?" asked Dezel concernedly, and she started, though his voice had been quiet despite its urgency. Ever since she'd lost all her strength like that, she seemed to be slowly regaining it again, like she'd hit the low point of a parabola; Rose frowned, hoping fervently that it wasn't a circle instead. The last thing she needed was for her power to fluctuate like this their entire journey.

"O-oh," she remarked, remembering suddenly that Dezel had asked her a question, and focused on his face with an effort. Bless his heart, if he had one; he almost looked anxious. "Yeah," she decided, and he gave a barely audible sigh of relief, but said nothing; he only locked his arms under hers and hauled her gently to her feet.

Rose smiled exhaustedly as Dezel tucked her hand around his waist, threw an arm around her shoulders, and supported her carefully down the stairs of the stage and across the plaza. "What would I do without you?" she asked him, leaning her head briefly against his shoulder; as he gave a half-pleased 'hmph' in response, she found herself contemplating the answer.

As weird as it was, Rose couldn't imagine any of her other companions helping her out like this. (Why it felt so natural for one of the spikiest seraphim to be so soft with her, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.) Come to think of it, with anyone else at her side, the battle would in all likelihood still be happening, because even if they let her armatize—which she doubted, given the effects it apparently had—only Edna might have even suggested the _I'll-hold-him, you-kick-him_ strategy, let alone initiated it on their own.

And, turning back the clock still further, Rose wasn't confident any of the others could have manipulated Lunarre in the first place, luring him away until such time as they were ready to face him. But she stopped herself there, annoyed; what had she told herself about _what if_ s? It didn't help matters to contemplate what might have happened. Other than to make her a little more grateful for Dezel's presence, anyway. Especially given his body heat in this cold and wet.

They didn't speak again until they were safely in the inn, but not for lack of trying; after Dezel kept squeezing her shoulder warningly whenever she started saying anything, she finally took the hint and fell silent—but the moment he closed the door to their room behind them, she chattered, "D-do you think it w-was the armatus?"

Dezel shook his head, letting go of her; shivering violently, Rose grabbed another outfit and made her unsteady way behind the changing screen. (She knew he was blind, but it didn't make the prospects of getting dressed in front of him any more comfortable.) "I don't know," he confessed eventually, as Rose got undressed hurriedly. "Probably. I knew it was a risk, but we didn't have much of a choice, so—"

"W-wait, you kn-knew it was a risk?" interrupted Rose, pausing in her movements briefly out of confusion before reaching for her new clothes. "Wh-what are you t-talking about? I th-thought we were still in Sorey's d-domain. We _h-have_ to be, since you're still a s-seraph. Right?" she persisted, pulling on her pants. "Isn't that how it w-works?"

"As a Squire, you have a smaller domain of your own," pointed out Dezel; Rose pulled on her top hastily, straightening it out as she emerged from behind the screen to stare incredulously at Dezel. "It's not out of the question that I might be relying on you to keep me pure until we meet up with Sorey again. And I didn't tell you," he continued, raising his voice slightly as Rose opened her mouth, "because I wasn't sure. I'm _still_ not sure. But either way, it doesn't change anything."

"I don't care," declared Rose, curling her hands weakly into fists and stalking towards him; Dezel made a faint derisive noise, turning his back. "You need to stop trying to deal with everything on your own," she continued furiously, wobbling in place and sitting down on the mattress before she could fall over. "Stop acting like I can't handle the truth!"

But Dezel said nothing. Silent and secretive indeed; gods forbid, maybe Lunarre was right. _Who's really the boss here?_ his voice echoed tauntingly in her head, unbidden. _So many times you've pulled the strings, like she's just your pretty little puppet_ … Rose still had no idea what he was talking about, and she doubted Dezel did either, given that he'd barely reacted before moving on; but regardless, if they'd known each other like that, Dezel had to have been traveling with the Scattered Bones.

…With _her_.

And suddenly his gentleness, his overprotectiveness, the way he fought by her side as if accustomed to it… everything made sense. Rose had no idea how long he'd been with her, but for him to have been acquainted with Lunarre, it had to have been at least a few months before she'd met Sorey. She shivered automatically at the thought of an unseen protector, wondering just how long he had been watching her—and marveling at her own obliviousness.

"Still cold?" asked Dezel, not unkindly, and glanced back at her; Rose shook her head after a brief hesitation, taking a deep breath. She knew him well enough to know that if she revealed everything she'd just realized, he'd deny everything and shut down, and she'd never be able to approach the subject again. As obnoxious as it would be, she'd have to put those particular pieces together herself.

But there was no harm in inquiring about Lunarre's remarks, since they were all out in the open anyway. "What was he talking about?" ventured Rose; a frown of confusion flitted across Dezel's face, and she sighed impatiently. "You know, the whole 'pulling the strings' thing," she clarified, narrowing her eyes as he stiffened. So ignoring that comment didn't mean he didn't understand it after all. Good to know, she supposed, adding a more-than-cursory grasp of puppeteering to the list of things he refused to discuss. (Whatever that meant.)

"I don't know," Dezel told her, tersely, and Rose quirked an eyebrow. He could give Sorey a run for his money in the 'bad liar' department, but she wasn't about to press the matter. She'd already put him on high alert even by asking, but at least she'd gotten the tidbit she came for: everything Lunarre had talked about, Dezel had understood. Now it was only a matter of finding a way to convince him to translate.

 _Only_. Rose had her work cut out for her; sighing, she pushed herself backwards to lie down. "And I assume you don't know anything about his new _boss_ , either," she muttered in resentful disbelief; sure enough, he only shook his head and sat down at the foot of her bed. Realizing that he wasn't going to volunteer himself as her pillow this time, Rose parted the covers from the sheets and crawled between them. Thinking could wait until tomorrow; for now, rest was best.

"…Thanks, Dezel," she found herself saying hoarsely, and cleared her throat; she could hear him stir, but could not see him to gauge his reaction. "For everything." He may be infuriatingly reserved most of the time, but he'd been keeping her safe for longer than she'd known Sorey; Rose would have to remind herself of that every time she wanted to kill him.

It took Dezel a long time to respond—but when he finally spoke, his voice was oddly warm. "Night," he told her quietly, and Rose gave a sleepy smile, closing her eyes at last. Until they found Sorey, all the battles to come would be long without the armatus; she'd better get some rest while she could.

* * *

 _Stay tuned for settings that are not Pendrago! And as of 2/10/16, Chibi Torra has posted fanart of this scene. You can find it on either of our Tumblrs!  
_

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _As Rose says, she's got almost all the pieces, but there are still a few crucial gaps. I never did understand how someone as observant as Rose could fail to connect the dots in canon, and even here, she's just beginning. In the meantime, have patience!_

 _ **CWolf2:**_ _Yeah, and quite a project it is! I tell you, if this trend continues and I end up writing three chapters for every one I had planned, it's gonna be a hundred by the time I get through with it. Seraphim willing, that won't be the case, because I can't keep up this update frequency forever. I'm happy you liked my other stuff; thank you for the compliments!_


	6. Chapter 5: The Shepherd's Wife

To Rose's great surprise, the journey to Lastonbell was only long because there were so many unanswered questions. With Dezel's windstepping to speed her up, it only took a couple days of travel instead of the usual four or five; not that she knew how exactly that worked without exhausting them both, but she certainly wasn't complaining.

But it still felt like forever, because it seemed like Rose couldn't talk about _anything_. Every time she even tried to broach any of the multitude of subjects brought up by their encounter with Lunarre, he shut her down either by stonewalling her or telling her curtly that he didn't know. It was beginning to feel much too familiar, this cycle of lies and silence—but Rose had no idea how to break it. (Maybe it would get better once they hit civilization again?)

The only thing which was made abundantly clear to her, over those couple days, was that they were _not_ to risk enacting the armatus again until they were back in Sorey's domain. Unless they were in a life-threatening scenario, Rose had pointed out, just like they'd been with Lunarre. Which made it kind of useless to agree not to armatize, she'd added as Dezel scowled disapprovingly, since they couldn't very well control whether or not they ended up in life-or-death situations.

Such as this one, for instance. In the midst of her alarm, Rose found herself almost proud that they'd made it within a mile of Lastonbell before they'd gotten in any real trouble. The only fights they'd wandered into on the way here were few and far between, usually against single stragglers. A fight like this seemed much more interesting; but to be fair, it wasn't their own lives that were in danger, but rather that of… _Sergei_.

She gasped in shock; the moment she noticed him struggling against one of his former comrades, now turned repulsively reptilian, Rose's first instinct was to raise her hand and exclaim **"Lukeim Yur—!"** But Dezel clapped a hand over her mouth, none too gently, and she staggered: releasing her no less abruptly, he shot out his pendulums to entangle a hellion. Recovering quickly, Rose sprang forward to bury both her knives in its skull.

" _Fine_ ," she growled, half to herself, dodging another malevolence-mutated soldier and slashing at its scaly throat. Even as they fought, their enemy grew in number, the Platinum Knights succumbing one by one to hellionization—ignoring Sergei's desperate orders to retreat. At least the other hellions were mostly doing their work for her, she reflected in the back of her mind; they were also preoccupied with fighting one another. That, at least, worked out in their favor.

But even with the hellions' accidental assistance, it took much more time than she would have liked to bring them all down; without Sorey's purification at their disposal, they had little choice but to kill them, and they were all so resilient that she could well understand why they were such persistent problems for non-Shepherds. Even she, as a Squire, was exhausted by the time the last one fell, and the ordinarily unflappable Dezel was breathing hard.

This was what her guild might call a total loss, thought Rose, grimly surveying the carnage. No survivors, with the exception of their stalwart captain—thank gods. "Are you okay?" she panted, staggering towards Sergei, who stood some distance away with slack jaw and wide eyes.

He shook his head haltingly, though she doubted very much this was a response to her question; he probably hadn't heard her. "I—I don't understand what happened," mumbled Sergei, his voice low and hushed with shock. "While patrolling the outskirts of town, w-we encountered a—a crazed beast. We fought and dispatched it, and I thought the danger had passed, but then…" He swallowed, raising a hand to his face. "Wh-why would they—?"

Rose shook her head slowly, reaching out tentatively to rest a reassuring hand on his arm; he started, but did not throw her off. "Don't blame yourself," she told him, and his dull green eyes focused on hers with apparent difficulty. "It's not your fault," she continued. "That monster must have been a hellion, so its malevolence spread to your men after you defeated it." She eyed the corpses suspiciously, wondering where all that malevolence had gone now.

Sergei blinked. "So this is the power of malevolence," he responded slowly, staring down at his trembling hands as if expecting them to sprout scales and claws. "The call of chaos, even stronger than that of duty or honor. And I, their captain… I stood by and let them fall."

Standing on one hip and shaking her head vehemently, Rose took his fingers and curled them over his palms, supporting his fists gently: a frown flickered across his face, but he did not push her away. "Hey, don't start doubting yourself," she returned. "If you were any less worthy, you'd be a hellion by now."

Letting out a long breath, Sergei finally nodded. "Yes; you're right," he decided, braving a smile, which Rose returned in relief. There was the captain they all knew and loved; she looked back briefly at Dezel to find him observing them impassively, his arms crossed.

"I-is there a seraph with you?" inquired Sergei, tracing Rose's gaze, and she started. She should have known better than to think that even the most covert of glances would be beneath his notice. Oblivious as he could be, his senses were still heightened in the aftermath of battle.

"Oh… yes," responded Rose awkwardly, gesturing vaguely behind her. "That's Dezel." Sergei bowed in the direction indicated, but Dezel only shifted in place with an indistinct noise of impatience, glancing skyward. "We'd both appreciate it if we could maybe catch up somewhere a little more sheltered," added Rose, wincing as Sergei looked stricken; she hadn't meant to make him feel guilty.

"I-I'm sorry," he remarked, hanging his head. "But… would it be too much trouble for you to wait for me in the sanctuary? I have to…" He trailed off, glancing around at the fallen knights, and Rose bit her lip and nodded. There was quite a bit of cleanup to be done, and she was sure he'd been friends with many of his men; Rose would have offered to help if she wasn't so sure she'd just get in the way.

"Yeah," responded Rose. "Just find somebody to help you out, okay? Nobody should be out here alone. Not even you." She paused, meeting his eyes evenly, and found them glazed with what might have been tears of grief. " _Especially_ not you," she amended, and—gesturing to Dezel to come along—headed towards the city.

* * *

By the time Sergei finally pushed open the double oaken doors, Rose was too busy playing keep-away with Dezel's hat to notice. After an hour-long nap on one of the pews, she'd snatched it off his head out of sheer boredom, in an effort to figure out exactly how long Dezel would let her live. Ten minutes later, she was still alive, and was therefore obviously the winner—but when she noticed the captain standing in the doorway, staring in bewilderment… well, suffice it to say she sobered quickly.

Rose skidded to a halt on the carpet, slipping backwards with a squeal. Sergei charged forward automatically to help her, but Dezel got there first: hot on her heels, he crashed into her from behind with a startled yelp. They both staggered, flailed, and finally fell in a heap in the middle of the aisle, Rose raising the hat above her head to avoid crushing it.

Dezel was much heavier than she anticipated—so much so that Rose could feel the air pushed out of her lungs as his full weight crashed down on her. (He must be _all_ muscle, she thought dimly, a reprise of her earlier realization.) As she struggled to draw breath, he snatched his hat back suddenly, the burden on her back lessening; she grabbed for it too late. Turning herself over with an effort, she found Dezel straddling her legs as he readjusted his hat on his head, baring his teeth in cold triumph.

"A-are you all right?" asked Sergei, sinking to one knee next to her, and steadied her by the shoulder with a gentle hand; Rose tried to inhale, but ended up coughing instead, her lungs airless. Shaking his head exasperatedly, Dezel walked forward on his knees, reaching out his hand towards her midriff as if cautious.

Though Rose at first shied away suspiciously, she could not back up far enough with Sergei's arm supporting her from behind, and Dezel brushed his fingers briefly against her diaphragm. In response to his touch, her lungs immediately relaxed and expanded again, and she drew a sudden breath of the sweetest air she'd ever tasted.

"Serves you right," remarked Dezel, getting to his feet and pulling his hat down lower over his eyes… but as he turned his back, she noticed that he was smiling in irrepressible amusement (and maybe a little relief). "Nobody screws with my hat."

Rose wanted to point out that he should be telling her not to screw with _him_ , but remembered suddenly that Sergei still knelt at her side—no longer merely concerned, but confused as well. "I'm fine," she told him hastily, and he nodded, relaxing slightly. "Thanks. And sorry. For everything." Rose rubbed the back of her head awkwardly; pushing herself up and scooting back to sit on the step, she leaned carefully against the altar. "So… any news?" she added uncertainly.

"I doubt a knight like myself has much to say compared to the Shepherd's wife," chuckled Sergei, though his eyes were serious, and still faraway after the incident that afternoon. To her surprise, he bowed his head, resting a fist over his heart. "But let me assure you, milady, that I'm glad you're safe. I fear I didn't make that clear earlier, given the… circumstances."

Rose couldn't help but laugh gently, despite his slight shudder. "It's _fine_ , Sergei," she told him, and though she had the strangest urge to pat his head like he was some sort of watchdog, she resisted, settling for giving him a genuine smile instead. "You kinda had your hands full. Don't worry about it."

Sergei shook his head as if still bothered by something, his anxiety evidently unassuaged, and cleared his throat. "Your husband," he began unreadably, and stopped as if unsure as to where he wanted to go from there. Rose's heart skipped a beat, either in joy or apprehension; the creases in his brow informed her that whatever news he had may not be good.

"Sorey?" she asked perhaps a little too interestedly, somewhere between eager and worried—but she figured that at least she had an excuse, since she was supposedly his wife. "Have you seen him?" she demanded, when he initially said nothing. Sergei twitched as though his first instinct was to shake his head, but instead he sighed, looking her determinedly in the eyes with an effort.

"Y-yes," said Sergei unwillingly, but his reluctance prevented Rose from celebrating. "He left this morning for Ladylake. To meet with Princess Alisha." He shook his head, and Rose cursed silently to herself; they'd _just_ missed him. "But even with Glaivend Basin cleared of all troops… well, as soon as this crisis has passed, it's likely that the Emperor may not be as willing to listen to reason as Her Highness."

Rose sighed, shaking her head slowly. There was no way Sorey would involve himself in a diplomacy mission like this, given Lailah's repeated warnings to stay out of political matters. "Well, this is a mess," she muttered, bowing her head in thought, and Dezel nodded fervently in her peripheral vision. Rose knew all too well that Alisha had been his Squire before her; his objective had to have something to do with that…

Some of her thoughts must have shown in her expression, because Sergei shifted in place, resting his hand on hers earnestly. "I tried to encourage him to wait for his wife, milady," he responded, wide-eyed. "I implored him to think of you. He said—well, he told me he _was_ thinking of you."

"What…?" frowned Rose, royally confused and a little bit annoyed. If he was thinking of her, why had he ditched her to run off with another Squire? Why would the other three seraphim even _let_ him do that? It didn't make any sense.

Sergei sighed. "I didn't understand him at first either," he confessed. "He didn't offer any details, but he said you were safer on your own for now. He was sure you could take care of yourself… and that you would find him again." Sergei hesitated, moistening his lips. "Sorey has a lot of faith in you," he added, lowering his eyes almost reverently. "But I doubt I have to tell you to remember that."

"But if he's going to see Alisha…" murmured Rose, half to herself, and narrowed her eyes in thought. She had no idea whether or not there could be only one Squire per Shepherd, but if that was the case, she'd have to beat her to him before he made a huge mistake.

"I'm sure there's no cause for alarm," responded Sergei, misinterpreting her countenance, and Rose quirked an eyebrow. "Sorey must mean only to ensure peace between the nations. I can't imagine that a man married to a lady as lovely and skillful as yourself would ever so much as look at another woman." He paused, and such was the seriousness of his expression that Rose almost laughed. "Even the famed princess of Hyland."

Dezel made a faint retching noise in the back of his throat, and she could no longer suppress a smile. "Thanks," she said, struggling to her feet (Sergei gallantly helped her up), "but I'd still like to be there for him if I can. Of course I trust him," she added emphatically; that seemed to be important to the captain, anyway. "I just don't want him to be alone in an atmosphere like this, that's all."

"Well said," remarked Sergei approvingly, and Rose smiled; she almost pushed herself up to sit atop Sindra's altar, but quickly decided it would probably be better for the Shepherd's alleged wife to avoid doing anything that might be considered blasphemous.

"We need to head out as soon as possible if we want to catch up with your _husband_ ," glowered Dezel pointedly, as tense as ever—though Rose guessed, with some amusement, that this particular instance of prickliness was specifically due to her continued façade. "If you're going to do anything besides talk, then do it, and let's move."

"Dezel says we should get going," translated Rose, heaving an exaggerated sigh.

Sergei's eyes widened. "What little light there is fades quickly these days, and it's a long way through Volgran Forest in this weather," he responded, crossing his arms. "I understand your urgency, but even the noblest intentions amount to nothing if their bearer is slain."

Rose raised her eyebrows. Judging from her conversation with the Pendrago innkeeper, that lesson seemed to be floating around a lot lately. She brought her arms up behind her head, glancing over at Dezel; however vehement his protests would be, he couldn't very well just leave her behind. "Yeah, okay," she responded eventually, returning her gaze to Sergei. "I'll stay."

Dezel shook his head in the background, resting his fingers on the brim of his hat, but didn't seem much surprised; Rose allowed herself a brief moment of triumph. "The inn has been overrun with refugees," he told her, "but I found some space for your friends the Sparrowfeathers in the barracks. I'm sure there's room for you, too."

Happiness blossomed in Rose's heart at the mention of her friends; how long had it been since she'd reunited with her family? "That's very generous of you," she observed, beaming, and (for the sake of her good mood more than anything) chose not to mention that of _course_ there would be several empty beds after the hellion incident this afternoon. "I owe you one."

"N-not at all," stammered Sergei, flushing. "It's the least I can do for the Shepherd's wife." He cleared his throat as if preparing for some sort of recitation, closing his eyes briefly. "Supper will be served in half an hour, and I'll arrange it so that you have a bed whenever you wish. There will be no curfew for you or your seraph, of course." And with that, he saluted once, spun around, and marched off.

"Well, he's certainly eager to help," remarked Dezel sardonically, and took a few steps forward to stand next to Rose as the double doors slammed shut behind the captain. " _Your seraph_ ," he muttered, so quietly Rose doubted she was meant to hear.

"They don't get much more helpful than Sergei," she agreed. "He may be a little… gullible, but he's very chivalrous. You should take a leaf out of his book," she added, elbowing Dezel's shoulder and grinning as he gave a gruff growl. Automatically trying to envision the scenario, Rose found that she couldn't imagine what that particular seraph would be like if he were a gentleman.

Truth be told, she wasn't sure she would like him.

* * *

Okay, Rose took it back. Dezel should definitely take lessons from Sergei. She'd like him a whole lot more if he had a modicum of respect for her privacy, or at the very least didn't put up such a fight when she asked to talk to her family alone. Especially when she hadn't seen said family in several weeks, not counting dinner with the knights and a brief restocking session.

"Go on, shoo," Rose told him dangerously, crossing her arms, and ignoring Talfryn and Felice's sidelong glances from across the way. "If you're allowed to keep secrets, so am I. And besides," she added, tapping her fingers on her arm, "I haven't seen them in forever, and you know full well I can't talk about _everything_ in front of the knights. This has nothing to do with you."

This was not, strictly speaking, true; but he would hardly answer her questions himself. This would be her only chance; Dezel made an impatient noise in the back of his throat. "Fine," he snapped. "Make it quick. I'll be just inside." He paused ominously. "I won't eavesdrop, and I'll make sure no one listens in, but if you're not done in ten minutes…" He let the threat hang in the air, perhaps for dramatic effect, but Rose only rolled her eyes. As Edna might say, his shtick was getting old.

"Okay, all right already," she cut in. "Sheesh. I'll make sure to hurry, Your Seraphic Storminess." She sank into an exaggerated curtsy, and Dezel glared at her, though his mouth twitched as if on the verge of a smile. "Seriously, would it kill ya to lighten up a little?" she muttered, and they turned their backs on one another without another word.

"Um," began Talfryn uncertainly as Rose stepped beneath the awning, raising a tentative finger as if trying to find the right words to point something out.

"Yeah, I know," responded Rose, shrugging. "Sorry about that. Anyway, I'd suggest going for a walk, but a certain seraph might get all malevolent if I wander too far without him—so we'll just have to talk here." She sighed, shaking her head. "I know it's a little exposed, but I trust that Dezel won't let anyone hear us." She glanced up at the canvas sheet above them, as resonant as any drum. "Not that anyone _could_ , over all this rain."

"Dezel," repeated Felice, glancing thoughtfully towards the doorway before studying Rose's face once more. "That's the one who was arguing with you just now?" Rose nodded somewhat hesitantly in response, glancing around her family. "Why doesn't he want you talking to us?"

Eguille laughed quietly, resting a hand on his hip. "I'd think a seraph wouldn't want anyone associating with assassins," he chuckled. "Well, if that's the case, he's got a surprise coming. Of the unpleasant variety."

Rose let out a long breath, shaking her head. "Oh, that's definitely not the reason," she remarked, tilting her head to regard the flooded flagstone beneath her feet. "I just don't know what _is_." She took a deep breath. "I think… talking to you guys might help me find out, actually," she finished. "He gave us ten minutes, anyway."

"So talking to us will help you find out why he _doesn't_ want you to talk to us?" asked Talfryn, closing one eye and scratching his head. "I don't know about the rest of you," he added, glancing around, "but I'm lost." Rose sighed at the murmurs of assent following his words, stamping her foot. They were wasting precious time here!

"Okay, so let's just forget about Dezel for now," she sighed, taking charge of the conversation before it could get any more derailed than it already was. "Listen, I'm going to ask you some questions. No matter how obvious the answers might seem, I want you to answer them. Truthfully. And that includes any information you've kept to yourself just because you couldn't explain it." She stared each member of her guild down individually. "Got it?"

Heads nodded all around, some more nervously than others, and Rose allowed herself a smile. "Good," she remarked, satisfied. "Now, let's start simple. Have any of you ever noticed anything weird about the wind?"

"The _wind_?" asked Felice, as Talfryn added, "Weird _how_?"

Rose pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Weird, like… it has a mind of its own," she decided eventually, and her family exchanged dubious glances. "Like it's specifically working for us, or something?" she added, a little more uncertainly.

"Sometimes I thought the wind seemed to favor us," admitted Talfryn finally. "But I always thought it was wishful thinking, since we used to be the Windriders, you know?" He paused, tracing wet circles on the ground with his boot. "But it stopped as soon as you left with Sorey."

"Can you give me any examples, or was it just a feeling?" urged Rose.

"It was mostly a feeling," chimed in Felice, and Talfryn nodded his agreement. "Like the wind was our friend. But like Talfryn said, it seemed more connected to _you_ , and sometimes…" She trailed off, bowing her head as if unwilling to continue.

"There were several occasions when you harnessed the power of the wind in… impossible ways," added Rosh, regarding the ground carefully, and Rose frowned, trying to remember. "Sometimes you'd vanish and reappear, or otherwise moved too quickly for an ordinary human."

"But you never talked to us about it, so we assumed it was just artework," confessed Eguille, crossing his arms, but paused as he noticed Rose's expression. "Have you forgotten?" he prompted, frowning, as Rose shook her head, pressing her hands to her temples in an effort to concentrate.

Most of her missions with the Scattered Bones had always been hazy in her mind, but she'd never really questioned it before; she'd dismissed it as subconsciously blocking out her actions. But now… "Tell me about the Scattered Bones again," she ordered him, looking up again and scowling fiercely. "From the beginning," she added somewhat impatiently, when no one said anything.

"Well, just after the Windriders were… disbanded, you initially suggested we reform as an assassins' guild," explained Eguille slowly. "That we become what people thought we were." He looked her up and down pensively through narrowed eyes. "But you did seem… different, at the time."

"I was scared of you," admitted Talfryn, and Felice rested a hand on his shoulder, nodding hesitantly; Rose's eyes widened. She barely remembered creating the Scattered Bones, honestly; had she really been so intimidating? "You were acting _really_ intense, and I'm only like, a year older than you."

"You were going on about revenge," continued Felice, unable to meet Rose's questioning eyes. "We were all a little startled. It was just a couple days after our escape from Pendrago, and you'd cried the whole day before. For you to wake us up so early that morning talking about vengeance was… jarring, to say the least."

"I remember that," responded Rose, thinking hard. (Did she really, or did she just remember all the times they'd told her, from when she'd asked about it before?) "But I just went back to sleep after you agreed to give it a try, and when I woke up again, that was when we came up with the idea for the Sparrowfeathers."

Rosh gave a light sigh. "You didn't talk about creating the Scattered Bones again for a while," he murmured. "It was as if that morning had never happened. Like you'd forgotten all about it. But then, a week or so later, you asked us about the idea again."

"You seemed a little confused about it, like you'd dreamed the whole thing," remarked Eguille. "Or like it hadn't been your plan. 'That's a good idea,' you said, when we summarized what you'd told us. 'I wish I'd thought of it myself'." Chuckling as Rose's old embarrassment came back to haunt her, he continued, "We had to remind you that you _did_ think of it yourself. But you were only just fifteen, and we'd all gone through a really rough time," he added. "None of us blamed you."

"It was like that for a lot of missions, now that I think about it," said Rosh, somewhat hesitantly. "Minor lapses in memory—forgetfulness about when you'd assigned certain missions or what they entailed. But most of the time, we assumed you were just testing us on our comprehension. Until…"

"A few months ago," put in Felice, her gentle eyes full of soft concern, "when you ordered us to track down the Shepherd." She shook her head slowly. "You didn't give us a reason, as I recall, and we were… worried about you."

"Yeah," agreed Talfryn. "Normally, your missions make a lot of sense. That one didn't." He shifted uncomfortably. "Even the one involving the princess had at least a little bit of context. The Shepherd assignment came out of basically nowhere, and you wouldn't tell us anything."

Rose bit her lip. She could barely recall anything about her reasoning for targeting him; she only remembered that she'd wanted to learn more about what kind of person he was, and where his loyalty lay. Why had she set the others on him as well? "But Lunarre fed us false information about the princess," pointed out Eguille. "In that respect, it wasn't a valid mission to begin with."

Lunarre! _That_ was something she had to tell them about, more urgent even than that huge dragon—about which she didn't know much more than they did. "Yeah… about that," began Rose, grimacing. "Lunarre isn't one of us anymore. He's not one of the Scattered Bones, or even a human. He's become… a hellion."

"One of those demons?" gasped Felice.

Rose closed her eyes briefly. "Yes, but it doesn't matter how he got that way, or when," she responded, partially in an attempt to convince herself. "What matters now is that he's after me for some reason, and for all I know, he'll use you to _get_ to me. I don't know who he answers to, but he's not working alone. Be on your guard."

Rosh nodded once. "Understood," he told her. "We'll keep an eye out, and if we find anything, we'll let you know." Rose braved a smile as Dezel's wind wrapped around her warningly, their ten minutes evidently coming to a close, and she nodded resolutely. She'd gotten a lot of good information today; that was as much as she could hope for.

"Dezel's calling me," Rose told them, her voice edged with a weary sigh. "I've gotta go back inside, but feel free to strategize without me." Gods knew they'd have to get used to it someday, if she was going to spend the rest of her life (or at least the rest of her spare time) chasing after Sorey.

"Oh, is that what this wind is," remarked Talfryn casually as she turned away, trudging through the puddles back to the barracks. "Tell him we said hi!"

"Will do," Rose called back over her shoulder, and entered to find Dezel leaning against the wall. His cold rigidity, a sharp contrast to her family's soft warmth, was rattling, and though she opened her mouth to pass on Talfryn's greeting, she could say nothing. She only gestured to him to come with her, and they made their way silently to their shared quarters.

As they walked together, oddly synchronized, Rose found herself reflecting on Lunarre's conversation in conjunction with the past five years—more shadow than sunlight. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had all the puzzle pieces now, but she didn't want to put them together; she didn't _want_ to see the picture they made.

And yet, she had to know.

* * *

 _Longer chapter this time, perhaps to make up for a longer wait._

 _ **Guest:**_ _Thank you! That means a lot, considering that we're going to be venturing pretty far outside of canon interactions._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Oh, believe me, you ain't seen nothin' yet._

 _ **PhoenixTheCat:**_ _I'm so glad this makes you happy! Though I gotta say, 'happy' might not be the word you'll use after reading some of the chapters to come. Consider yourself warned, haha._


	7. Chapter 6: Time Flies

Rose's problems were twofold: one, that she hadn't seen the light; and two, that she _hadn't seen the light_. She and Dezel had awakened at dawn and left for Volgran Forest without any farewells, whether to Sergei or the Sparrowfeathers—and since they'd left town when the world was still dark around them, and immediately headed for thicker darkness still… well, Rose was getting tired of relying on Dezel's wind-reading to guide her through the trees she used to know so well.

And her other issue was no less irritating. Though her dreams had been filled with indistinct disquiet last night, she had come to no concrete conclusions about Dezel's past or her own. And yet, Rose still felt like everything was right there, laid out in front of her. She probably just wasn't letting herself see things for what they were, like with the seraphim. She'd always clung to denial as fiercely as life itself, after all, and she'd never liked thinking too much. (And man oh man, did this situation require a _lot_ of thought.)

"Why don't we stop at Tintagel Ruins for the night?" asked Rose, breaking several hours' worth of silence as she glanced over her shoulder at Dezel. "And before you start complaining," she added, as he opened his mouth, "I know it's early. But it's been dark all day, and it's not gonna get any lighter at this point. Plus," she continued, allowing the merest hint of a whine into her voice, "we're both cold and tired, and we can start early tomorrow to make up for it. I _really_ wanna catch Sorey before he gets to Hyland."

Dezel sighed, shaking his head, but she knew he wouldn't fight her about it; she was really mentioning it mostly because she'd noticed him slowing down over the past hour or so, himself. "Fine," he responded, much less shortly than she had anticipated. "It's not too far out of the way, at any rate." Rose smiled slightly and kept walking, a new spring in her step; in Dezel-speak, that probably meant they were basically right on top of it anyway.

She wasn't wrong. It didn't take them more than a quarter of an hour to climb down into her beloved ruins; Rose was surprised the antechamber wasn't flooded, but then again, the trees blocked out a lot of the rain before it fell down the entry hole—and the precipitation wasn't as heavy as it had been to begin with.

They made their way to her bedroom in the usual silence, and Rose sighed heavily as she sank down on her dusty bed, setting down her bag as Dezel sat on the edge of the mattress across from her. "So, you've barely spoken to me since I could see you again," she told him, crossing her arms. "Did you just get used to not talking to me while you were invisible, or something? 'Cause it's kinda bugging me."

Dezel gave his traditional 'hmph' in response, and Rose (rummaging in her bag for some form of sustenance) was about to snap at him about it—but then he continued, "I've never been especially talkative. You know that." He paused, the corner of his mouth lifting in an infinitesimal smile. "That's the other seraphim's job. _My_ job is to make sure you stay safe."

"You know what I mean," responded Rose crossly, taking an aggressive bite of jerky. "Like, I don't mind silence if it's not awkward, but you're kind of giving me the cold shoulder and stuff…?" It wasn't supposed to be a question, but her voice turned up at the end as she found herself unable to gauge his emotion from his expression.

"I am?" asked Dezel, frowning. Rose blinked in confusion; he sounded so genuinely perplexed. But all his silences seemed so pointed. Yet at the same time, it wasn't consistent enough for that to be the case; he'd been generally grumpy, but there had been times when he'd lightened up—if only a little. And he hadn't withheld any information about Sorey or their current objective; only himself.

"I don't know; maybe your shoulder is just _always_ cold," responded Rose, running her fingers through her tangled hair. It was about damn time they had this conversation, but it certainly wasn't going like she thought it would. "You just seem like you're mad at me, or something. So I've been spending half the trip trying to figure out what I'm doing wrong." The closest she'd come to her perceived sin was her entirely understandable curiosity about Lunarre's comments, but…

"You're not doing anything wrong," responded Dezel with surprising immediacy, and Rose raised a skeptical eyebrow. "It's just that I don't start conversations, and the ones _you_ start are always questions I can't answer. That's all."

"Can't, or won't?" returned Rose, leaning back on her hands and looking him as close to the eye as she could tell. "I don't know a damn thing about you, and I'm beginning to think I don't even know myself anymore." She shook her head, staring at the wall. "I didn't really think about it at first, but after Lunarre mentioned how you hide things… well, I started wondering."

"So you're taking _his_ word for it?" asked Dezel, sitting forward suddenly, his voice edged with a snarl.

"How could I not?" asked Rose, stung. "You're not exactly the most forthcoming guy. Whenever we brush up against a sensitive subject, you tense up and shut down." Swallowing the last of her jerky, she looked him full in the face determinedly. "You're actually a pretty terrible liar, you know," Rose added spitefully.

Dezel, evidently unable to procure a satisfactory retaliation, merely shook his head and got to his feet, ignoring her yet again as he took to pacing. Growling in frustration, Rose threw herself backwards on her bed and closed her eyes defeatedly. Why did she even bother? She'd get _so close_ , and then he'd just…

His footsteps approached, and she opened one eye to find him standing over her. "You know I'm here to protect you," he told her, crossing his arms, and there was a peculiar kind of intensity about his voice she couldn't quite place. More forceful than usual, as if to conceal some other emotion that sounded suspiciously like regret. "If I keep secrets, it's only to make sure you stay safe."

Rose snorted. "Oh, yeah," she responded, too annoyed to be grateful. "Like that time you were going to stay up all night to keep Lunarre at bay instead of just telling me about it. _That_ would have turned out real well." She shook her head, throwing her arm over her eyes.

"Why do I even bother?" growled Dezel, echoing Rose's earlier thoughts with uncanny accuracy; she frowned spasmodically, sitting up again and searching his face. There was something off about his irritation; it almost seemed more like… sadness. Her exasperation evaporated, to be replaced by something resembling pity; if the suddenly augmented breeze was anything to go by, Dezel had noted the change.

"H-hey," Rose told him, as gently as she could, and patted the space beside her; to her surprise, Dezel obligingly sat down, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward to regard the floor stonily. She took a deep breath before continuing, "I understand what you're trying to do. I feel the same way about the Scattered Bones." Rose rested a tentative hand on his shoulder. "But if I'm worried about something, I _tell_ someone, so they can help me help them."

Dezel turned his face towards her slightly, shrugging off her hand; Rose stared at him, shivering as the air turned cold around her. "This is _different_ ," he began gruffly, somehow managing to sound both cautious and impatient; but Rose had reached her limit, and didn't let him finish.

"It's not!" she exclaimed, rising to look down at him as imperiously as she dared. "Look, I know I couldn't see you before I met Sorey, so you probably got used to acting on your own. But it's not like that anymore!" continued Rose, stamping her foot indignantly. "If you want both of us to survive, you have to work with me here. I know the two of us together can handle almost anything, but…" She clenched her fists, taking a confrontational step towards Dezel. "You have to recognize that _I can think for myself_!"

Only after her outburst did Rose realize how much of her hand she'd shown, and her pulse seemed to slow to a stop as her breath caught; she covered her mouth with a few trembling fingers—too late. Dezel's lips had parted in shock during her speech; she turned her back on him, something nameless clutching at her heart with icy claws. After a tantrum like that, he'd probably never speak to her again.

Much to her numb shock, he gave a single chuckle instead. "I know," he responded, and she glanced over her shoulder in guarded surprise to find his head bowed and his fingers resting on the brim of his hat, ill disguising a slight and sharp-toothed smirk. "You've always…" But the last syllable trailed off into a sibilant hiss, and Dezel inhaled sharply, jerking his head abruptly aside as if reprimanding himself. Now, apparently, it was his turn to have said too much.

Rose's eyes widened as something clicked deep inside her. _Always_. She might not have thought twice about that word if Dezel hadn't cut himself off, she thought, with an ironic half-smile. She might have simply assumed that in this context, it referred to the length of time he had known her. But now, she wasn't so sure.

"Always," murmured Rose, letting out a long breath; he flinched, though the word had been softly spoken. "Dezel… how long have you known me?"

There was a very long and heavy silence; Rose almost repeated the question, uncertain as to whether he had heard it the first time—but as she took her seat next to him again, he got rather suddenly to his feet and walked forward a couple paces, crossing his arms with his back to her.

"I swore I'd never tell you," began Dezel reluctantly, inclining his head with a resigned sigh. "But… Sorey once said that not much gets past you. I should have expected that you'd figure it out eventually." He spoke as if to himself, in a hushed and hurried mumble, and Rose narrowed her eyes. They weren't going to get anywhere if things kept up like this.

"Talk to me," she ordered, folding her arms in an effort to keep herself from trembling. Dezel only shook his head slowly, turning to sink down on the bed across from her, and offered her a bitter and defeated smile. More like a grimace, really, thought Rose.

"Where do you want me to start?" he asked sardonically, his mannerisms unusually submissive, and Rose frowned in confusion. How could Dezel just roll over like that after putting up a fight for so long? This wasn't a trick or trap of some sort, was it?

"At the beginning," managed Rose.

"I thought you would say that," sighed Dezel, shaking his head. "But you're not going to like it," he added, looking over at her as if hopeful that she would change her mind. "And you're stuck with me until we find Sorey. Are you _sure_ now is the best time?"

"Yes," responded Rose, even before the last five words had left his mouth, and she'd rarely been more certain about anything in her life. "Absolutely. Anything is better than nothing."

Dezel didn't seem surprised, and cleared his throat as if in preparation for some sort of speech. But as Rose braced herself for some sort of weighty revelation, he only asked quietly, "What's the first thing you remember?"

Rose scowled; was he trying to derail the conversation? But, when she saw that he was waiting patiently for her response, she pursed her lips pensively. The first thing she remembered… "When I was really little," she began, "the leader of the Windriders, Brad, found me wandering around the northern part of Glaivend Basin. He took me in, and from then on, I was one of them." She shook her head, agitated. "But I can't tell whether I actually remember any of that, or whether I've just been told about it so often that I _think_ I do."

"I know the feeling," replied Dezel darkly, and she blinked at the swiftness of his response. "Except for the the past five years, everything is… hazy. There are only a few moments from that time that stand out clearly in my memory." He paused, and she got the unnerving feeling that behind those impenetrable bangs, he was watching her intently with his sightless eyes. "Finding you is one of them.

"You were about… five years old that day, I think," he continued, tilting his head back as if to address the ceiling, and Rose's eyes widened at the distant timeframe, but she didn't have a chance to think too hard about it. "I remember that my friend Lafarga and I had traveled with the Windriders ever since they were founded. I'd been to Glaivend Basin with them many times before, so that evening wasn't anything special at first. Just another summer sunset."

Rose smiled slightly, finding some relief in distraction; trust Dezel to speak so dismissively of the wonders of nature. She found herself wondering whether he had always been blind, but interrupting him now might dissuade him from ever resuming his explanation again. The fewer chances she gave him to duck out, the better; she settled for nodding instead.

"Lafarga and I each went for a walk alone," recounted Dezel. "That was when I found… you. Collapsed on the ground, half-conscious." Rose's heart jumped; that sounded familiar, but she couldn't pinpoint the exact memory; only heat and dust. "I—I didn't know what to do. I wanted to help, but I was afraid you'd see me and get scared if I tried. But I couldn't leave you to die, so I approached you anyway.

"Long ago, when I was young," added Dezel, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "somebody told me that I should take all four elements with me, so I would be prepared for anything." He shook his head as if in exasperation with his past self. "It was just a stupid superstition, but for the longest time, I carried flint and steel for earth and fire… and a canteen of water.

"So I set you upright and supported you while you drank from that canteen," he continued, with an apparent effort. "Just little sips. You were too weak to handle all of it at once." He hesitated, and a blurry image gradually took shape around a long-buried recollection; heat and dust, and stale water. "You seemed to see the flask just fine, but you didn't look at me. Not until after all the water was gone, after the sun had set.

"But once you'd drunk your fill," added Dezel, his voice suddenly turning hoarse (he cleared his throat), "you looked up into my face, into my eyes. I could tell that you _saw_ me, because you… reached for my hand. I felt your fingers trembling; you were still so—so weak." His voice broke, and Rose blinked as her eyes stung with unexpected tears. "But you smiled, and I sensed your gratitude; that was your prayer to me."

Heat and dust, stale water… and Dezel! "I _remember_ that," gasped Rose, the full memory bursting into her head like the setting sunlight of fifteen years ago. "But I thought you were just a mirage," she mumbled self-consciously, bowing her head. She remembered the presence more than his face; back then, he had looked… different. Maybe he wasn't wearing his hat for some reason, she thought, narrowing her eyes.

Dezel's voice had lowered to a whisper, and he stared sightlessly at the floor. "You were too weak to move, and barely conscious," he murmured. "I picked you up and brought you to Lafarga. He cast a healing arte, giving you just enough strength to walk—and then we guided you to Brad's patrol, with one of us supporting each of your shoulders.

"We knew he had always wanted a kid, so he would probably take you in," continued Dezel, smiling faintly, and Rose half-returned the gesture. "And sure enough, he left the patrol to bring you back to camp. I went with him, and stayed by your side until you had fully recovered." He let out a long breath, shaking his head. "But when you were strong enough to talk… you couldn't see me anymore."

"Sorry," mumbled Rose, at a loss for what to do with herself. That had to have been difficult for him, but in all fairness, the only thing she had remembered was her first name. _Rose_. That was all she had brought with her from a life she would never live. Yet she'd built a family for herself, and Dezel had been a part of it all along. In fact, he was its founder, in an odd sort of way.

"Don't apologize," responded Dezel, and he might have raised his eyebrows. "I was disappointed at first, but it wasn't too long before I found out that it was a lot easier to protect someone like you from the shadows."

"Yeah, I can see that," agreed Rose, somewhat self-consciously; she'd always been this fiercely independent, after all. "But… why didn't you tell me all this before?" she added tentatively, almost shyly. Now that she knew exactly how crucial a role Dezel had played in her life, she couldn't help but feel like she'd been unforgivably rude to him ever since they'd met Sorey.

Not to mention, Rose had _definitely_ taken him for granted all those years. She'd never believed in the seraphim, and yet there had been one protecting her almost all her life. She owed him so much more than she could ever repay; enduring this stubborn silence was nothing, given what he'd done for her. Seriously, why hadn't he played this card and shut her down the first time she'd annoyed him…?

"I just… wanted you to go on believing you'd gotten this far on your own," responded Dezel in a low voice; after a disbelieving pause, Rose felt herself smiling, closing her eyes briefly. Gods, her guardian angel was really a piece of work; was that seriously all he was worried about?

"You wanna know the truth?" she asked him, getting to her feet and standing before Dezel, and he looked up at her as she bent closer to him. "I've _never_ believed I've gotten this far on my own," she whispered, raising a hand to the side of her mouth as if confessing a secret before straightening up again (the better to observe his shock). "True, I thought of it as luck, instead of divine intervention—but either way, I've always known that a lot of things just… tend to go right for me." Rose crossed her arms in somewhat exaggerated satisfaction. "As far as I'm concerned, now I just know the real reason."

"So you're not…" began Dezel incredulously, visibly disarmed, and got to his feet to look down at her. A stronger breeze swirled around her suddenly, ruffling her tunic, and she gave an involuntary shiver, but permitted him to ascertain the truth in her pulse and breathing.

"What, did you think I was just some fragile flower, even after all those years of watching me?" quipped Rose, quirking an eyebrow, and pulled her arms tighter around herself; as if in response, the wind withdrew, taking the chill with it. "Sure, it makes me feel like a little less of a badass to know you were looking out for me the whole time," she continued, relaxing slightly, "and maybe I'm a _teensy_ bit humiliated because I've probably done some pretty embarrassing things when I thought I was alone.

"But I know I'm competent on my own as well," she persisted, "because now that I know you're here, I don't see you doing everything for me. I see you watching my back, just like you've done all along; I see you supporting and defending me, all the while letting me have my fun." Lunarre's string-pulling comment tugged on the back of her mind, but she pushed it away; that wasn't important right now.

Dezel offered no response, regarding her with lingering astonishment. "But let me make one thing very clear," added Rose, taking a step towards him, and was much more pleased than she should have been when he took an infinitesimal step back. "You have _got_ to start trusting me with sensitive information," she told him, poking him none too gently in the chest; he winced. "I literally run an assassins' guild; I'm not going to misuse it. Hell, I won't even tell Sorey and the others if you don't want," she offered. And that was a rare deal if ever she'd made one; she didn't like keeping secrets from comrades.

The answer was no, but at least it got a reaction. "It doesn't matter," sighed Dezel, sitting down and laying back on his bed. As he did so, he took off his hat to rest it over his face, muffling his next words: "Most of them put the pieces together long before you did."

" _Dezel_!" snapped Rose, torn between amusement and fury, and clenched her fists; but nonetheless, she couldn't keep herself from grinning. Even if he was being serious, his tone was far lighter than it had been, as if a great weight had lifted from his shoulders; yet she still had that uneasy feeling that there was more to his story… like puppeteering. But all that could wait till later, Rose told herself; at the very least, she'd proven herself capable of persuading him to divulge at least a _little_ information about his past.

…Well, it had been an extremely productive day, and with any luck, they'd meet up with Sorey tomorrow. For now… "Thank you, I'm sorry, and good night," she yawned, falling back onto her own bed—and as Dezel chuckled by way of acceptance, the sound struck her as so overwhelmingly familiar that Rose wondered whether she'd somehow known he was there all along.

* * *

 _Next time: the moment you've all been waiting for.  
_

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Just you wait. Information does come in installments, after all._

 _ **PhoenixTheCat:**_ _And here's your Confrontation Part One, in the form of an incredibly tense plot dump! Hope that lived up to whatever expectations you may have had, because I'm sure there will be plenty more where that one came from._

 _ **Draconic:**_ _Oh, we'll see everyone soon; don't worry. Rose will be back at Sorey's side in no time with the Official Dezel Wind Rush!_


	8. Chapter 7: Reunited We Stand

"Rose."

She'd been dreaming of Dezel all night, so hearing his voice came as no surprise. They were scattered visions, subconscious musings on everything he'd told her the evening before. Mostly, she found herself reliving a few moments from her childhood onwards… but this time, she could see him.

First she'd been a young child, playing tag with her new friends Talfryn and Felice; glancing back as she ran, she noticed Dezel grinning as he lent her his power for the final few feet before she caught her quarry. Then, she'd grown into her teenage years, and felt the signs of her first blood; as she rummaged through her bag in search of painkillers, she found a stash of chocolate, and realized for the first time whence it came as Dezel smiled wanly from the shadows.

Now, she was a young woman, and she'd found her first lover. As her suitor pressed hot kisses into the crook of her neck, arching over her on his bed, Rose shuddered: a chill breeze seemed to cut between them. She turned her head aside to find Dezel leaning there against the wall, his every muscle tense, with teeth grit and arms crossed and head bowed as if he wanted nothing more than to disappear—

" _Rose_ ," repeated Dezel's voice more urgently, and she frowned, stirring faintly and opening one eye. As she noticed him standing over her, she automatically hugged her arms around herself before forcing herself to relax: here in the present, she was fully clothed. Of course, that didn't change the fact that Dezel _had_ probably seen her in far more vulnerable positions; but thankfully, she wasn't thinking clearly enough to focus too intently on this new and alarming idea.

"What time is it?" she yawned, sitting up with a tremendous effort, and rubbed her eyes with feeble fists. She'd fallen asleep pretty early in the evening, so technically she'd probably gotten more than enough rest already; but her internal clock told her that it was still the middle of the night, and the suggestion that they should travel in these conditions was not an appealing one.

Dezel shrugged. "Three or four, maybe," he answered nonchalantly, and Rose blinked several times in quick succession. She'd known they would have to leave early since they stopped early, but she definitely hadn't meant _this_ early. "Come on," he added, heaving an exasperated sigh. "It's about time we caught up with Sorey, and he probably hasn't moved yet. The sooner we take off, the better."

Rose threw herself backwards again with a groan, turning herself around to bury her face in her pillow. Couldn't he give her a moment to wake up? "Carry me," she mumbled, her voice muffled, and curled up in halfhearted hope that he would leave her alone. "I'd rather catch up on _sleeeep_ …!"

The word was elongated into a squeal as Dezel pinched the curve of her waist suddenly. Damn it; he totally knew all her weaknesses after all those years, didn't he? And now that the air was clear between them, he could take advantage of any or all of them at his leisure. "We can't risk that, and you know it," retorted Dezel, though she heard amusement intertwined with his annoyance.

Very reluctantly, Rose gave a smothered sigh and pushed herself up on her elbows once more, turning her head to give Dezel a disapproving stare. "Nobody," she pointed out crossly, brushing her hair out of her face, "with the possible exception of the idiot we're looking for, would be out and about in this weather _or_ at this hour—let alone both."

Shaking his head, Dezel let out a long breath of resignation, fiddling with his hat. "If you walk for three hours straight, I'll carry you for one," he muttered; Rose smiled, pleasantly surprised. Such an offer was sweet of him, almost to the point of being uncharacteristic; but something in his voice told her that it was his way of apologizing for all his secrecy, and far be it from her to refuse him.

"Deal," announced Rose, rolling off the bed and onto her feet—and without further ado, they set off in search of the Shepherd's camp.

* * *

Dezel may have agreed to carry Rose for part of their journey, but that evidently didn't stop him from complaining about it.

"Seriously, stop whining," she reminded him exasperatedly. "You signed up for this, remember?" General exhaustion notwithstanding, Rose was beginning to find out the hard way that being carried on someone's back for extended periods of time—especially when her bearer was so sulky— _really_ wasn't all it was cracked up to be. But she'd agreed that Dezel would carry her for an hour, so by the gods, she would endure it.

"You used to be lighter," grumbled Dezel, readjusting her position on his back roughly, and Rose snorted. Not that she was insecure about her weight, given her penchant for constant exercise; but he still ought to choose his words a little more carefully.

She half-expected Dezel to protest that he hadn't meant that, but his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere: he came to an abrupt halt, as if uncertain about something. "It hasn't been an hour yet," Rose reminded him, swinging her legs impatiently as if her own motion could entice him to move again. "What's the holdup?"

"There's someone in that village," responded Dezel warily, nodding towards the abandoned settlement of Forton. He moved to set her down, but she tightened her arms around his neck involuntarily as his generous breeze brought the scattered sounds to her ears as well: he froze in recognition of their comrades' voices, hoisting Rose a little higher on his back, and approached the ruins cautiously.

Most of the dilapidated buildings offered little shelter from the weather, and Rose almost asked if Dezel was sure; but in the cliff-face serving as one of the village walls, her eye snagged on firelight emanating from a small cavern. There, huddled around Lailah's bright flames, sat the Shepherd and his seraphim, engaged in quiet conversation.

Rose wasn't sure whether she was more relieved that they were alive and well, or annoyed that they could be so relaxed when they'd run off without her; but she didn't have time to think too hard. Perhaps by chance, Mikleo turned his head towards them, and his eyes widened. "Wait," he managed hoarsely, his voice barely audible from this distance: Rose smiled lopsidedly at his incredulity. "Is that…"

There was a shivering moment of silence before Lailah gave a delighted gasp. " _Rose_!" she exclaimed, leaping gracefully to her feet, and rushed out to greet them personally, clasping her hands before her; Rose noticed happy tears shimmering in her sea-green eyes an instant before she closed them.

"Forgive me," she whispered, inclining her head as if in shame, and Rose felt a frown flit across her face. What was _this_ about? "I should never have—I mean, I…" Lailah trailed off helplessly, stepping aside to let Dezel pass, and Rose's eyes slid to Sorey, who only smiled at her faintly from inside the cavern, sitting beside Mikleo. She narrowed her eyes, opening her mouth to confront him; but her attention was instead drawn to Edna, leaning on her folded parasol just inside the cavern entrance.

"Oh joy," she said with traditional sarcasm, though Rose noticed a sparkle in her eyes, and grinned despite herself. She'd really missed this monotone, not that she'd ever admit it. "You're safe. What a relief." Edna turned her back, seemingly struggling not to smile, and unfolded her umbrella for good measure, walking further back into the cave and taking her seat by the fire.

"Yeah, but I've never seen a lazier Squire," growled Dezel, and stopped just outside the cave, letting go of Rose abruptly: squeaking, her reflexes kicked in, and her grip on his throat tightened. Gritting his teeth with an indistinct utterance, he bent backwards under her weight, staggering; in response to his lack of equilibrium, Rose automatically clung to him more tightly, standing on her tiptoes.

Still encircled in her arms, Dezel turned around to face her—and they froze for a split second, half-embracing, staring one another down and breathing somewhat harder than usual from the exertion. As Rose opened her mouth to make some humorous remark, however ("Why, Dezel, I didn't know you cared!" came to mind), he removed her arms hastily from around his neck, pulling her into the cavern and throwing her down unceremoniously next to Edna in one fluid movement.

After she got over her initial confusion, Rose almost laughed as he stalked to the entrance of the cave, as far away from her as possible, and stared out at the pouring rain with crossed arms. Lailah let out a light sigh as she knelt demurely across the fire from Rose. "Well, that was… quite the entrance," she observed uncertainly, offering a small smile. "Though I'm glad you're both safe."

Shaking her head, Rose couldn't help returning the gesture. "Sure, we're _safe_ and all," she replied, "but see if I ever talk to him again after everything he's put me through." She stuck her tongue out at Dezel's back, and he offered a barely audible 'tsk' in response—masked more by a growl from her stomach than the pounding rain.

Murmuring something about how she should eat, Mikleo promptly procured a handful of bacon from a boarskin bag. Cold, she noted, munching on it happily; but still crispy. "That's funny, Meebo," said Edna, narrowing her eyes. "I was under the impression that _I_ had claimed the leftovers. Pretty rude of you to give my stuff away like that."

"You're a seraph!" snapped Mikleo, rising to her bait as usual, and Rose hid a smile as she noted his clenched fists. He was usually so even-tempered; it was truly a gift that Edna could get to him like this. "You don't _have_ to eat!"

"They were still mine," countered Edna coolly, her grip tightening on her parasol, and Mikleo made a faint noise of frustration. "I think next time it's my turn to cook again, I'm going to give your serving to Dezel. See how _you_ like it." Rose turned her head to look at him, but he didn't stir. He seemed to be lost in deep thought; but then, perhaps he was just wondering (given such a petty argument) if it was for the best that they had found one another.

"That's not fair!" snapped Mikleo, leaning forward to scowl at her from across the fire—but before he could continue, Lailah rested a conciliatory hand on his shoulder, and he reluctantly stood down. It was too bad she put a stop to the argument just when things were getting good, thought Rose, swallowing the last bite of breakfast; she had really missed shows like this.

She realized suddenly that Sorey had still not spoken, and looked him carefully up and down. He seemed exhausted; but that was no excuse for basically ignoring her. " _You've_ been quiet," asserted Rose, unsuccessfully trying to keep the accusation in her voice to a bare minimum: Sorey started, glancing up at her and trying in vain to meet her searching gaze. "Heldalf got your tongue?"

He shook his head slowly, briefly closing those beautiful eyes; when he opened them again, they fairly burned with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Rose," he told her hoarsely, and she blinked in surprise; was he on the verge of tears? "I never should have left you like that. I just thought… you'd be s-safer if we split up, so…"

He gave a long, shuddering sigh, and such was the remorse in his voice that Rose knew he was being honest: her exasperation softened into sympathy. After all, it probably hadn't been all sunshine and rainbows on his side, either. She got to her feet and walked carefully around Edna, sitting down next to him and putting a comforting arm around his shoulders.

"Hey," Rose told him, turning his face towards her gently with the other hand; rather than meet her gaze, he closed his eyes. "Look at me," she insisted, and he slowly obeyed. "It's _fine_ ," she continued with conviction, squeezing his shoulder. "We all pulled through, didn't we? And now, we're together again." She leaned forward to press a swift kiss to his forehead—something Brad had always done to ease her worries, what seemed like so long ago. "No harm done. Chin up."

Sorey blinked, the first tear sliding down his cheek, and managed a watery smile. "I'm s-so glad you're okay," he whispered, his eyes shining with joy, and Rose grinned and pulled him into an awkward hug. As he cried into her chest, she realized that the feeling could not have been more mutual; she hadn't known how anxious she had been until the weight had lifted from her heart.

Throughout her journey with Dezel, Rose had opted to focus on her indignation instead, deciding that resentment at being left behind was easier to manage than fear for his sake. But now that they were reunited, even Rose's eyes were welling up with tears of relief, and—

"Oh, break it up, you two," sighed Edna, sticking her parasol disdainfully between the two of them (which thankfully remained closed); Rose and Sorey each sat up, the former wiping her eyes and the latter sniffling self-consciously. "We _should_ be thinking about what we're going to do, now that we're all finally in the same place at the same time."

For once, Mikleo seemed to agree with her, as he nodded along with Dezel; but Lailah frowned fiercely, pouting. "Edna!" she exclaimed, severe in her reproach, but her words had no noticeable effect: Edna only gave an unperturbed shrug, withdrawing her umbrella. "Don't ruin the moment!"

"Too late," remarked Mikleo dryly, just as Dezel growled, "But she's right."

"Okay, then you go first," prompted Rose, smiling at Sorey and punching him lightly in the shoulder; he winced, but beamed at her nonetheless. "What happened? Where were you going? And why'd you leave me behind with _this_ jerk?" She tossed a facetious glare back at Dezel, who threw back an equally sportive snarl.

"I think maybe _you'd_ better go first," laughed Sorey, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, and Lailah unexpectedly nodded her agreement. "There's really not much to say on our end, thankfully, and it'll probably make more sense after you give us your story anyway."

Dezel let out a long and strangled breath, shaking his head. "Why don't you _both_ go first," he suggested dangerously, crossing his arms once more. "Day by day, or place by place. One way or another, you better start talking." His next words were lower in pitch and volume, half to himself, but Rose still caught them: "The wind is… restless. We shouldn't linger."

She wanted more than anything to ask what he meant, but decided they'd probably find out the hard way eventually; for now, it was better to heed his advice. "The last time we saw one another was when that dragon showed up, so I guess we should start there," remarked Rose, thinking aloud. "You know we both ran away, but I must have fainted or something, because the next thing I remember was waking up in Morgause."

"Her resonance was paralyzed," put in Dezel.

"Yeah, mine was too," agreed Sorey, squinting somberly into the fire. "I tried to explain, but there wasn't any time. I knew I'd see them again soon, so I wasn't too worried." He hesitated, peering closely at Rose as if to inquire whether she had been concerned, but Edna fortunately interrupted.

"Yeah," she said, shouldering her parasol. "But it was really annoying." She turned towards Dezel, tilting her head almost apologetically. "It must have been hard keeping this one in line if she couldn't hear you," she added, nodding towards Rose. "My condolences."

"Yeah, yeah," muttered Rose, rolling her eyes, and narrowly resisted the urge to inform Edna in no uncertain terms that she wasn't a _kid_ ; that would be a colossal waste of time and energy, as Mikleo demonstrated daily. "So what happened to you guys? I mean, you didn't head for Pendrago, so…" She trailed off, giving the others an opportunity for elaboration.

Sorey sighed, stirring slightly. "I actually decided to head for Elysia as soon as possible," he confessed after a brief pause, and Rose glanced at Dezel, impressed despite herself; he had called it more accurately than she ever could have. "The dragon flew off in that direction, from what I could tell, and… well, even with Gramps to protect the villagers, I'd still like to make sure they're all okay."

Mikleo nodded fervently in agreement, picking up the story. "So we went directly to Lastonbell to save time," he continued, "but we had to rely on the Platinum Knights for our accommodations, and it was only because of Sergei's charity that we were able to buy much of anything. Nobody wanted to sell to the Shepherd, and even some of the soldiers weren't happy about putting us up for the night."

Rose looked her confusion, opening her mouth to ask what he was talking about (sorry that the Sparrowfeathers had arrived too late to help), but Lailah saw her expression and sighed. "All the people's reverence has turned to contempt," she explained softly, sadly, in her mellifluous voice. "They need someone to hold accountable for such a terrible turn of events. It's unfortunate, but understandable, that Sorey is their prime suspect."

"Even though none of this is his fault," grumbled Mikleo, glowering into the fire with crossed arms. "It figures that their last hope of salvation is the one they decide to blame for everything." He shook his head, agitated. "If I were the Shepherd, I'd be a hellion by now, dealing with all that frustration."

Dezel snorted in the background. "If you were the Shepherd, I would never have agreed to be your Sub Lord," he returned scornfully; Rose almost laughed and Edna smiled as much as she ever did, but Mikleo fortunately didn't catch his comment—too busy scrutinizing Sorey's concerned countenance to notice.

"It's not their fault, either," pointed out the Shepherd with a sigh. "And besides, I… I think they're right." The shocked stares and blinks all around told Rose that he had not spoken with the others about this matter before; why not? "I _did_ cause this, and you all know it, so I intend to fix it. That's all there is to it."

"You were trying to help!" argued Mikleo, poking Sorey sharply in the side; he reflexively scooted away from the accusatory jab, leaning against Rose. "Come on, Sorey, enough people blame you already without you turning against yourself," he added, wide-eyed. "That way malevolence lies."

"But what I was _trying_ to do doesn't matter," shot back Sorey, with all the passion ordinarily reserved for ruin exploration. "I messed up, and now the world's at stake. I'm supposed to give life, not take it." He sighed heavily, bowing his head. "In the end, he baited me into getting blood on my hands, and I… I fell for it."

"Hey now, don't put this all on yourself," exclaimed Rose, somewhere between alarmed and annoyed at such a display of guilt, and rubbed his shoulder as comfortingly as she could. "We struck the finishing blow _together_ , remember? Give me some credit, too." She elbowed him lightly, though she had rarely been more serious.

"And you _are_ still pure of soul, Sorey," pointed out Lailah with a quiet kind of intensity. "In your heart, you've always known what is right. You are wise enough to accept the consequences of your actions, and willing to work to redeem yourself even when all seems lost."

Sorey nodded, resolution kindling anew in his tired eyes. "I'll do whatever it takes to make up for my mistakes," he agreed, resting his fist in his hand, "but I _won't_ sacrifice any of you."

"Oh, that's nice of you," responded Edna, raising an eyebrow, and Rose found herself once again trying to guess whether she was serious before she remembered abruptly in the ensuing silence that she had still said very little of her own journey. And there were a few _pretty_ important things she hadn't covered yet.

"It really sucks that you guys ran into all that trouble," began Rose somewhat uncertainly, "but we've had our share of bad luck, ourselves. We stayed in Pendrago a couple nights, and on the second one… well, we ran into Lunarre." Everyone exchanged nervous glances, and Rose made a spur-of-the-moment decision not to worry them with all his ridiculous riddles. "Dezel and I drove him off without too much trouble, but he _did_ mention that he'd follow us until I fall to the malevolence."

"I won't let that happen," promised Sorey, giving her a reassuring nudge. "Don't worry. We'll keep our guard up."

"…Speaking of hellions," continued Rose, choosing not to mention that she hadn't been worried in the first place, "what was the deal with that ridiculously over-powered dragon in the first place? Like, I know dragons used to be seraphim and all, but what kind of seraph could possibly be _that_ strong?"

Lailah gasped sharply, raising her hand to her mouth too late to muffle the noise; all eyes turned to her, more sympathetic than confused. "Sorry, Lailah," murmured Sorey, dipping his head meekly in her direction (she nodded hesitantly), "but… we think that dragon might actually be…"

"Maotelus," finished Mikleo in a hushed voice, and Rose's blood ran cold; she glanced at Dezel to find that his mouth had dropped open. A seraph whose blessing was powerful enough to protect the entire continent, turned into a dragon? No wonder the world was ending—and no wonder his presence was affecting the weather patterns throughout Glenwood.

"It's just a theory," sighed Mikleo, "but Maotelus may be collaborating with Heldalf somehow. By killing Heldalf, we inadvertently attracted the wrath of the hellionized Maotelus." He glared affectionately at Sorey. "Which _still isn't your fault_ , by the way," he pointed out fiercely. "You were supposed to defeat the Lord of Calamity, and you did. If you'd known this would happen…"

Sorey only shook his head despondently as Mikleo trailed off, and Rose was barely paying attention anymore anyway; the reality of the situation had crashed down on her so suddenly she could barely breathe. So this is what Lunarre had meant by _the new Lord of Calamity_ : the most powerful seraph in Glenwood, hellionized. "Oh," was all she could say, scratching her head. "That… _really_ … sucks."

"Yeah, that about sums it up," agreed Edna, and there was a long silence. Everyone stared solemnly off into space; for one reason or another, Rose's object of choice was the largest medallion on Dezel's hat, and she frowned as she remembered what Sergei had told her of Sorey's plan. What did Alisha have to do with anything?

"So… if that's the working theory," she said eventually, haltingly, "what's your plan of action? Like, if Maotelus is a hellion, that's kind of a big deal, so what are you doing looking for Alisha? That sounds… unnecessary."

 _That_ got way more of a reaction than she anticipated; Sorey looked embarrassed, while Mikleo and Lailah seemed oddly apologetic—though Rose noticed that the latter also seemed relieved that the subject had changed. She opened her mouth to repeat the question when no one said anything, but then Edna spoke.

"After you and Dezel ran off together," she smirked (he and Rose both scowled at her phrasing), "we were one Squire short of saving the world, and Sorey didn't want to go back to find you, so we're looking for the other one."

Rose raised an eyebrow, turning towards him and awaiting an explanation. "It's not _like_ that," returned Sorey, somewhat crossly, but earnestly enough that she believed him. "I just knew you'd pull through and catch up to us, that was all. And in the meantime, we could look for Alisha, because I'm probably going to need two Squires if I want to do this right."

"And what about me?" asked Dezel, straightening up from his position leaning against the cavern wall, and a cold breeze swept over the group. "Would you have found another seraph to act as my replacement, if it had taken us any longer to find you?"

No one seemed to want to answer him either, but eventually, Lailah let out a long breath. "Since Sorey's resonance was paralyzed at first, I decided in his stead that it was in everyone's best interests to let you go with Rose," she told him. "But such was the distance between you and your vessel that it wouldn't be too long before you were left outside his domain. If that had happened, either or both of you could have been corrupted, and…" She hesitated, directing her eyes to her hands clasped in her lap. "Because of that possibility, I had to dissolve the pact."

"What?" exclaimed Dezel and Rose together; the former approached the fire swiftly to crouch next to Lailah; she slid subtly away from him, clearly intimidated by the intensity of his countenance. "But I don't feel any different, and I was still able to enact the armatus with Rose."

Frowning, Rose remembered all too clearly the peculiar enervation that had followed—and that her wings had been made of light. Glancing around at the others, she found that they looked no less puzzled, and sighed internally, resolving not to mention the armatus issue yet. (As if Lunarre's comments weren't enough of a mystery!)

"If you truly didn't notice a change," began Lailah after a long pause, raising a delicate hand to her chin thoughtfully, "and if you were still able to activate the armatus with Rose… then perhaps you made a new pact with her…?"

Rose glanced at Dezel curiously, but he only shook his head. "Not intentionally," he replied, fidgeting restlessly with his hat. "I didn't even know that was possible. My understanding was that Sorey was still my vessel, but Rose's domain kept me from becoming a hellion." He gave a dry half-smile. "Apparently not."

Lailah pursed her lips pensively. "Pacts _do_ respond more to actions and emotions than words," she said. "It's not necessary for you to know the rites to perform them. In fact, the ritual only sets modern words to an age-old tradition. It may help facilitate the necessary actions and cultivate the required emotions, but it's entirely possible to operate without it."

Dezel's fingers stilled on the brim of his hat, and he dropped his hand back to his side. "If that's the case, I guess I must have made a pact without knowing it." He gave a single, humorless chuckle, shaking his head disbelievingly. "Who knew."

"Really?" asked Edna, with a suspicious amount of interest; Rose narrowed her eyes. "That's weird. It's kind of hard to perform those rites by accident." She half-smiled at him mischievously, and Rose braced herself. "You had to have been holding her hand, for starters."

Raising her eyebrows, Rose turned towards Dezel in search of some sort of explanation, but was too late: he had already gotten to his feet and turned away, and she could no longer see his expression. "Wait, really?" asked Sorey curiously, and Lailah seemed to be struggling to suppress a smile.

" _No_ ," snapped Dezel too quickly (and too vehemently), and Rose smirked. Under all that leather, he was really a big softie; nothing had changed from when she was a little girl, had it? He'd probably held her hand a lot when she'd been knocked out, waiting for her to get better. And as scary as it was to realize he'd been with her the whole time, it was also comforting that he cared for her.

"Oh, that's convincing," snorted Mikleo, crossing his arms, and there was a note of relief in his voice alongside all the amusement; Rose guessed that he was only so eager to join Edna and pick on Dezel because it meant that he himself wasn't a target for once.

"Shut up," growled Dezel, but offered no excuses.

"Aw, he's embarrassed," giggled Edna, inasmuch as someone so stoic could be said to 'giggle'; Rose seriously doubted whether the girl had ever laughed in her life. It was a little sad, really; someday, maybe, she'd be able to teach her how. "How cute."

"Shut _up_ ," repeated Dezel through grit teeth, turning his head aside to address his tormentor, and Rose noted that his color had darkened a few shades. Okay, that actually was kind of adorable, but she wouldn't be caught dead admitting it, especially not if that meant agreeing with Edna.

"Find a better comeback," retorted Mikleo, and Dezel whirled around and opened his mouth (ostensibly to tell him to shut up a third time), but apparently thought better of it and closed it again: Rose winced sympathetically. He'd just found out he made a pact by accident, and now his companions wouldn't get off his case for being understandably concerned over his new vessel's welfare.

But even as Sorey and Lailah started trying to mediate, Dezel glanced sharply over his shoulder towards the cave entrance, tensing abruptly. Rose rested a hand on the hilt of one of her knives; as aggressive as he could be, she knew when he was serious. Mikleo could not say the same for himself, and started laughing about how there was no need to get defensive about it, but then—

A powerful gust of wind chilled them all to the bone, with such force that Lailah's fire flickered and died out of her shock, and two pendulums shot out of the shadows and wrapped around Sorey's wrists. Tracing the cords to their sources, Rose first took in a pair of half-familiar arms. Well-muscled arms. White-tattooed arms.

"Gotcha," grinned Zaveid, and reeled in his lines.

* * *

 _Merry Christmas to anyone who celebrates the occasion, and Happy Holidays to everyone else! My gift to you all: four more party members, a bit of explanation, and a cliffhanger._

 _ **CWolf2:**_ _I'm so glad! That was an important scene, you know, so I'm pleased I could replicate what her reaction might have been in canon._


	9. Chapter 8: Exile and Acceptance

Rose's eyes widened as Zaveid spun Sorey around roughly to face his friends, carefully positioning his hands to break his neck; there was a collective gasp, but no one dared assume combat positions.

As he glanced around the group with a challenging stare, she frowned. Even having met him only once, Rose had heard enough about him to realize that he was behaving very oddly indeed; there was a kind of desperation deep within his amber eyes, and his smirk was definitely strained. The air around him felt heavier, and her core ached slightly; but Rose could see well enough that he had not been hellionized. What was this…?

"How _dare_ you!" cried Lailah shrilly, finally shattering the shocked silence. Clenching her fists, she stared him down with a furiously burning gaze; Zaveid met it evenly, and their eyes locked.

"How dare I?" he half-laughed, and Sorey gasped as he increased his pressure on the last word; Rose twitched automatically, but knew better than to attack. "Tell me, Lailah," continued Zaveid, narrowing his eyes. "Of the two of us, which one has now failed _twice_ to keep the Shepherd from pulling dumbass moves like that?" His lip raised slightly in a snarl as Lailah gave a soblike inhalation, dropping her gaze.

"It's not her fault!" burst out Mikleo, his knuckles white as he gripped his staff more tightly (though Rose noted that his eyes were fixed on Sorey). "Don't put this all on Lailah. The rest of us are just as much to blame." There were nods all around, even from Dezel… and Sorey's mouth twitched in the merest hint of a grateful smile, though he didn't dare either to move or speak.

"Don't start with me, kid," retorted Zaveid. "Even if you all helped out this time, it was another of Lailah's Shepherds that caused this mess in the first place," he continued, more viciously; she flinched at his words. "Now, Sorey's managed to find a way to screw up a situation I didn't think could possibly get any worse. And you didn't stop him _why_?" he added, looking Lailah up and down scathingly.

"It was her oath," pointed out Edna, with unusual ferocity, and pointed her parasol at him accusatorily. "You should know that already. Lailah didn't do anything wrong; she couldn't tell us, so she didn't."

" _Then she should have died_!" bellowed Zaveid, his eyes widening, and Lailah gasped sharply, raising a hand to clutch at her heart as if his words had wounded her. "She could have saved the world, but instead, she saved herself." He spat the last word contemptuously, readjusting his stance. "Because Lailah's so damn important that she didn't want to break her oath, even if it meant letting the rest of us live a little longer!"

Dezel bared his teeth, and Rose looked briefly over at Lailah to find her staring at the ground; Mikleo rested a hand on her shoulder, as comfortingly as he could. "What do you want from us?" growled Dezel pointedly. "You could kill Sorey right now and make hellions out of us all. This lecture is a waste of everyone's time."

Zaveid snorted derisively. "You think I want to make the Lord of Calamity's job even easier? _Please_." To Rose's astonishment, he released Sorey, quite abruptly, and shoved him back into the cave; Mikleo rushed forward to catch and support him as he stumbled. "You don't get to die until you finish what you started. Besides," added Zaveid, stretching as if nothing had happened, "if you're still not hellions, you might even have what it takes to beat him."

Rose frowned at his suddenly motivational speech; hadn't he literally just been yelling at them for screwing up? "Mixed messages much?" she mumbled, glancing at Dezel, who inclined his head slightly in agreement. As far as she was concerned, his question still stood; what _did_ he want from them? But her comment did not go unnoticed; Zaveid raised an eyebrow.

"I just needed to make sure you'd listen to me for once," he told her, resting one hand on his hip. Hence the hostage, Rose supposed. "I had to check whether you know this is your mess. And since you do," he continued, pointing towards himself with one thumb, "I'm going to find out if you can clean it up. If you can't beat me, you're never going to be able to beat a full-fledged dragon." He cast an ugly look at the sky, narrowing his eyes. "Especially not _that_ one."

Lailah finally looked up at him again, sadness shimmering in her eyes; but Edna frowned in confusion. "What's the point?" she asked, tilting her head as she opened her umbrella. "You just said you weren't going to kill us. So unless you're planning on stabbing us in the back…" She trailed off, twirling her parasol threateningly.

Zaveid chuckled darkly. "Oh, Edna, I meant every word I said," he remarked, though his stormy scarlet eyes—deep and sorrowful—were focused on Lailah's face. "The thing is, I might not stay myself long enough to follow through." He shook his head, raising his arms in a shrug, and leveled his impertinent gaze at Edna again. "Sorry!"

Rose's eyes widened in the beginning of understanding; so this was malevolence after all. " _What_?" she asked urgently, but it was too late: Zaveid shot a pendulum her way, and she slashed at it automatically. It glanced off her blade with a metallic click; Dezel retaliated with a pendulum of his own, keeping their adversary occupied as Edna and Mikleo teamed up to drive Zaveid backwards with a flurry of blows.

As he lashed out at them with both whips, each of them disappeared into their vessel to escape his onslaught. **"Fethmus Mioma!"** exclaimed Sorey and Lailah together, charging between Dezel and Rose to engage Zaveid in a burst of flame. Leaping easily over their greatsword, he threw his weight into the pendulums this time, aiming for his fellow wind seraph.

Though they struck the ground with enough force to chip the cavern floor, Dezel stepped swiftly back to cast a seraphic arte. Growling faintly, Rose kept light on her feet, searching for her opening; as it was, she couldn't contribute at all, and she hated not being able to pull her own weight. "You're not going to use that weapon this time?" yelled Sorey, bringing his sword down heavily as a pillar of flame rose up.

Zaveid sidestepped just in time for Dezel's Hell Gate to streak across the battlefield—but he laughed even as he reeled. "If I do, I just might kill myself," he grunted. "Surely you've _noticed_ by now?" he continued scornfully, slashing with both pendulums to unleash a tornado; Sorey raised his enormous sword to deflect it. "Or did you think it was just part of the storm you brought?!" roared Zaveid, shooting both pendulums into the earth.

Chains of light sprung from the ground to entangle Sorey, and Rose saw her opportunity, darting forward as he crouched; she slashed at the nearest part of him she could reach, anything to draw his fire. Though he grimaced as one of her knives drew blood (shearing off a lock of his hair and nicking his ear before it sliced his cheek)—he could not dodge until he withdrew his pendulums, and Sorey's shackles exploded into shining shrapnel: he dropped to his knees, breathing hard, and Lailah separated from him.

"He's barely holding it off," she murmured, casting a healing arte, and her words were barely audible in the cacophony of battle; Zaveid flinched as Dezel's fog of geostigma rose ominously around him, as if accentuating Lailah's next words: "The malevolence. At this point, it's nothing short of a miracle that he's still a seraph."

"And if he stays like this much longer," put in Edna's voice, sounding almost worried as Sorey staggered to his feet again, "we'll have another dragon on our hands. And we _really_ don't want that. Just saying." Rose leapt into the air, her blades sparking with violet electricity, and brought them down in an artificial lightning strike. Zaveid cried out as her knives grazed his chest in two thin slices, perpendicular to his tattoos.

As he fell backwards, he wrapped a pendulum around Rose's wrist, dragging her forward and using her as a counterbalance to pull himself to his feet. She gasped, her eyes watering in pain, as her joint twisted the wrong way—something snapped—

" _Rose_!" shouted Dezel, but Sorey got there first. Zaveid released Rose abruptly to focus on the newest threat; through the haze of pain, falling to her knees, she barely recognized Lailah rushing to her side, and Dezel might have charged past them both. By the time she looked up again, her injury healed, Zaveid had been thoroughly subdued.

He lay on the ground, breathing hard; only Rose had drawn blood in the fray, and none of his wounds were lethal, but the rain exacerbated it so that a veritable river of red soaked into the barren earth. Sorey stood over him, holding his sword to his heart. Approaching with Lailah's support, Rose noted that Dezel (standing at Zaveid's head) had wrapped his pendulums around Zaveid's wrists to hold him in place.

Zaveid started laughing convulsively, but ended up coughing instead, and Rose winced in sympathy despite herself. "My decision to face you was the only thing keeping me from becoming a hellion," he panted, grimacing. "And now I've done it. You have to put me out of my misery."

"No," returned Sorey, his eyes widening in surprise, and he stepped aside to let Lailah kneel next to him and cast a swift healing arte to mend his wounds. "You've helped us out a lot, testing us like you do. I don't want to kill you."

"You have to!" retorted Zaveid forcefully, sitting up with bent knees; Dezel tightened his pendulums to restrain him. "I'm not malevolent enough to bother purifying, and I'm not pure enough to be useful." He swallowed, closing his eyes briefly, and bowed his head. "Please," he begged quietly, hoarsely. "End me… while I'm still myself."

"I told you, he'll probably turn into a dragon soon," pointed out Edna, emerging from Sorey along with Mikleo, and paced restlessly around Zaveid. "And everyone knows you can't purify dragons anyway." She hesitated, closing her eyes, and turned her back. "I think we should honor his last wish. As… Eizen's friend."

"Don't say that!" protested Lailah, anxiety making her restless; she clasped her hands tightly in her lap as if to keep from moving. "Zaveid, you don't have to be a hellion for me to purify you," she told him desperately, and though she peered closely at his expression, he kept his head bowed and his eyes fixed on the ground. "The flames feed on all malevolence, not just that of hellions. I could—!"

"Do you want me to suffer?" interrupted Zaveid, looking up at her with fiery intensity. "Purification isn't permanent when there's this much malevolence in the world; I'll just get corrupted all over again." He gave a hollow and humorless chuckle, shaking his head. "Even I don't deserve that kind of torture… and neither do the poor bastards I'll slaughter as a hellion."

In the pause that followed, no one spoke; no one moved; no one even seemed to breathe. But Rose narrowed her eyes, a vague and wonderful idea taking shape in her mind; eventually, Zaveid heaved a sigh and looked up at her. "Rose," he told her softly, and all eyes turned to her. "Killing is your job," he implored her, his voice breaking. "Please. Take Siegfried, and do it."

But Rose shook her head, smiling, and crossed her arms. "No," she told him, and Zaveid grit his teeth, closing his eyes defeatedly; a tear or two might have streaked down his cheek to mingle with the rain. "But only because there's another way." She took a deep breath, and Zaveid looked up at her again in dull astonishment. "Since Dezel isn't Sorey's Sub Lord anymore, why don't you take his place?"

Lailah and Dezel exchanged a long glance, and everyone else stared at Rose blankly; whether in surprise or disbelief, she wasn't sure. "I mean," she continued awkwardly, ruffling her hair, "I'm just the Squire, so it's ultimately your call. It's just… you know, a possibility. That _doesn't_ involve turning into a dragon."

There was another long silence before Dezel finally shrugged. "Sounds good to me," he remarked, half-addressing Sorey. "You know my initial reason for joining you was to harness the armatus—and, since I can still use it even though the pact's been broken, I guess I don't need you anymore."

Rose smiled faintly as she noted that Mikleo's expression had turned murderous, and even Edna narrowed her eyes in displeasure; Lailah, however, simply sighed in resignation and shook her head slowly. "Sorey," she said, her voice oddly guarded, "if you agree, please give me his Divine Artifact."

As Sorey dipped his head and drew the knife from his belt, Dezel withdrew his pendulums suddenly; Zaveid winced, rubbing his wrists. As soon as Lailah received the knife, however, she immediately handed it off to Dezel; nonplussed, he examined it under Lailah's close observation. After a pause, he gave a sharp-toothed smirk and threw it down to stick in the ground between Zaveid's legs—narrowly missing his head (and a few other important things).

"Here," he told him, crossing his arms, and looking distinctly pleased at Zaveid's strangled yelp. "You can kill yourself, or you can make a pact. Your choice." Lailah frowned up at Dezel, but voiced no objections; Zaveid, meanwhile, relaxed slightly and picked up the knife, turning it over in his hands.

"Right," he muttered resentfully, after a pause. "Guess I'll get to help fix the mistakes I've been complaining about from now on. But I don't suppose there's any way to rig it so I get the female vessel instead?" he added, eyeing Rose; she grimaced, exchanging a helpless glance with Sorey and trying to figure out exactly how to tell him _hell no_.

Fortunately, Dezel had that part covered. "Hold your tongue or I'll cut it out," he snapped; Rose noted that most of the others looked alarmed, but Edna was clearly amused, and she was torn between the two. Dezel was undeniably overprotective, but it was nice that their sentiments matched up this time; for all she knew, Zaveid might not have listened to her alone.

He didn't seem too surprised at Dezel's outburst—nor was he attached to his request, apparently. "I'll take that as a no," shrugged Zaveid, turning towards Lailah again. "But at least I'll have _this_ lovely lady as my Prime Lord," he murmured, and Rose tilted her head; that sounded almost… genuine. Maybe this was his way of apologizing for all the terrible things he'd said about her, or something.

Zaveid held the knife before him with both hands, pointing the blade towards the sky, and Lailah clasped his hands in hers: both of them closed their eyes. "O ye born of the limitless sky," she intoned, and the blade glowed a pale green at her words, "here let our pact be forged, that my unquavering incandescence may be as thy purification! Shouldst thou accept this burden, recite aloud your name."

 **"Fylk Zahdeya,"** he responded quietly, and vanished into Sorey momentarily. Immediately as he did so, that peculiar weight lifted from Rose's center, and she could see well enough that everyone else felt it too: he was cured of his malevolence, then. Her solution had _worked_! She grinned; that was the biggest victory she'd had in awhile.

But Lailah's eyes widened in apparent surprise as she got to her feet, and Rose narrowed her eyes. She'd had just about enough of people not telling her things… but then again, she was one to talk.

When Zaveid emerged again, within the minute, he only walked towards the cavern without so much as a look back. His meaning was clear: first, shelter; _then_ , explanations—he had the right idea. (This was probably the first and last time Rose would ever think such a thing, she thought wryly.) The others followed him into their cave, somewhat warily, and seated themselves in a circle; Lailah conjured a new and cozier fire, and there was silence.

No one seemed to know what to say to one another, and Rose was no exception; neither she nor Dezel sat with the others, opting instead to lean against each wall close to the entrance, and study the scene at a distance.

Eventually, Lailah got to her feet. "Dezel," she began hesitantly, her voice full of either reassurance or concern: Rose noted that he was glaring into the fire as though angry with it, though she had her suspicions that he didn't realize he was doing it. "When you made your pact with Rose, what was your focus? You've completely separated from your Divine Artifact."

Oh, so _that_ was why she'd looked so confused when it had worked for Zaveid; she thought it still belonged to Dezel somehow. But Rose gave a light sigh at his utterly unhelpful response: "Hell if I know," he retorted, crossing his arms. "I've already told you, I didn't do it on purpose."

Lailah's eyes widened, and she scrambled over to Rose's side of the cavern. "Rose, are you feeling all right?" she asked frantically, holding her mended wrist to measure her pulse, and before Rose could respond, she raised the back of her hand to her forehead as if checking for a fever.

"Yeah," responded Rose warily, swatting her caring hands away. "Why?" If she was dying, the least she could have done was tell her earlier. Besides, Zaveid had already told her they didn't get to die until they'd finished what they started; she couldn't let them all down.

"Thank goodness," sighed Lailah, stepping back to stand a respectful distance away, and Dezel approached to stand next to her. "It's just that… well, without a binding agent of some sort, a one-sided link with a living vessel might cause that vessel to suffer. In other words… _you_."

"Wait, a 'one-sided link'?" frowned Rose.

Lailah gave her a small but genuine smile; Rose suspected that explaining things made her feel useful. "There are two requirements for a formalized seraph-human vesselhood," she recited, sounding rather as though she had swallowed an encyclopedia. "One, they require a focus, usually a Divine Artifact, in order to sustain the connection; and two, both parties must consent to the arrangement by swearing on that focus."

Rose raised a hand to her chin thoughtfully, trying to disentangle the meaning from her words. "So what you're saying is," she tried eventually, "Dezel swore on whatever that focus was, and I didn't…?"

"Yes," responded Lailah, sounding pleased that she had grasped it so quickly; judging from Dezel's puzzled expression, he couldn't say the same. "But since he doesn't know what that focus is, it's impossible for you to purposely formalize the connection now… which puts you both in a precarious situation."

"Are we in immediate danger?" asked Dezel urgently.

Lailah shook her head haltingly. "No," she responded, but such was her tone that Rose knew what her next word would be. "But"—there it was—"I would still advise against dwelling inside your vessel for now. It may cause… side effects."

"Like dizziness or weakness?" asked Rose, alighting on her solution and smiling despite herself. At least that part made sense. "Because when we armatized, I felt faint after we separated, but Dezel was fine. Right?" Her eyes slid over to him, but he said nothing, his thoughts plainly elsewhere; she noticed that he had tensed.

"But… it wasn't like that… before," he faltered cryptically.

To Rose's confusion, Lailah seemed to understand him, and turned towards him with a swift glance at her out the corner of her eye. "It's likely that your Divine Artifact supported the bond from your side without requiring an official pact," she told him quietly. "Artifacts are the most common focus for that reason; they're strong enough to do such things. But even then, it was clear that it wasn't mutual."

Rose had learned better than to ask questions about things like this; but here was another riddle. Great. Solve one mystery, and another one twice as complicated rears its ugly head. The most she could guess from this exchange was that Dezel had done this before. "A-anyway," continued Lailah, more audibly this time, "I'm still wondering how you were able to detach yourself from that knife without any adverse effects."

"But I thought _you_ broke the Sub Lord pact," responded Dezel, turning towards her in obvious bewilderment. "Why ask me?"

"I did," returned Lailah thoughtfully, "but I assumed the Artifact was still yours. It takes a lot to remove a seraph's mark from an item as powerful as that, once they've infused it with their mana; I actually thought death was the only way." She crossed her arms, glancing at the ground. "But if you managed not only to forge a new pact without it, but to relinquish ownership of the knife… well, you must have sworn on something even stronger."

"Like what?" asked Rose curiously.

She shook her head to indicate that she didn't know. "Actually, you two would know better than I," she replied, and Rose raised her eyebrows. "The form of the armatus reflects the nature of the focus—my sword, Mikleo's bow, Edna's gauntlets, and… the knife."

"Ours assumed the same basic shape as the knife-wings," responded Rose promptly, "except they were made of light for some reason." Lailah frowned, but offered no explanation, and there was a pause; Rose noted that her other companions had struck up a quiet conversation of their own, but could not catch any of the context.

Eventually, Lailah sighed, her eyes downcast. "I'm sorry; I don't know anything about that," she returned. "I wish I could be of more help."

"Me too," grumbled Dezel. "What exactly are we supposed to do in the meantime? We can't just go to the Divine Artifact store and pick up another one, and if there's anything more powerful than one of those, I've never heard of it."

"Gramps will know," spoke up Sorey confidently in the background, and all three of them jumped; Rose wondered how much of their conversation—if anything—had been private. "And we're headed for Elysia. We can ask him once we get there."

Lailah bobbed her head in agreement, then turned back to Dezel and Rose, raising a warning finger. "And till then," she added somewhat sternly, sounding rather like a mother might (Rose wouldn't know for sure), "no armatization, and no combination. You may be linked, but it's safest if you stay separate for now."

Dezel only crossed his arms with one of his traditional 'hmph's. "What's the use of having a vessel if I can't live in her?" he growled, returning sullenly to his post on the other side of the cavern entrance and turning his face to regard the rain outside.

"Hey now, Dezel," returned Zaveid, as playfully as if he hadn't been their enemy ten minutes ago. "That's pretty shallow of you."

"Shut up," snapped Dezel, and Edna's snickering something about comebacks did not help matters. "I'm _serious_." At his obvious displeasure, Rose found herself getting defensive. Sure, she hadn't ever been a vessel before, and she hadn't ever actually had a seraph living inside her, but she liked to think she was doing a pretty good job nonetheless. Being patient with all his secrecy had to count for _something_ , right?

Zaveid might have chuckled something akin to _that's even worse_ , but Lailah cut him off with a sigh. "I'm sorry," she apologized firmly, "but there's really no other known alternative at this point, unless you find a new vessel altogether… and that's easier said than done, with the world the way it is."

"These rules seem kind of arbitrary," Rose pointed out skeptically, crossing her arms; Dezel nodded fervently, but said nothing. If she wasn't so sure she'd get lost within the first five seconds of explanation, she might ask somebody _why_ this world operated the way it did. Like, what even was a pact, and how did it bind them, and why did it have to be done that way…?

"A lot of things in this universe are like that, you know," remarked Zaveid sagely, getting to his feet and swaggering over to her; Lailah gracefully spun out of the way, but Rose didn't realize she should move until too late. He slung a muscular arm around her shoulders, drawing her close, and grinned, "You just gotta roll with the punches."

"I'll punch _you_ ," muttered Dezel, taking an aggressive step forward and glowering over at him; Rose smiled at him in exhausted gratitude as Zaveid took the hint and released her with a shrug. Glancing at her other friends talking around the fire, their expressions alight with newfound hope and relief, her smile widened. Rose had more questions than answers, as usual, and her world was getting more complex by the day; but with a new ally on their side, maybe—just maybe—everything would turn out okay after all.

* * *

 _Enter Zaveid! (Though I'm at least 50% sure his arrival was not quite what you were expecting.) I do have to admit I completely guessed on the English localization of his true name, because I definitely don't hear "Wirukun Zavie" when I armatize._

 _ **bladegryphon:**_ _There seems to be a tradition here with exposition throughout this story: a little soon, and a lot later. I think it's safe to say that you can bet if any questions come up, they'll probably be addressed within a few chapters, but only answered much later. And as for Zaveid, he's been waiting just offstage for his turn in the spotlight._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _I love that you're coming up with theories for this, but I intend to keep you guessing for some time yet. Muahaha!_

 _ **PhoenixTheCat:**_ _I assume you're referring mostly to the events of the previous chapter, in which case, I'm really glad you liked that explanation! And don't worry; if Dezel told Rose not to screw with his hat, he's definitely not letting Zaveid anywhere near it._

 _ **Draconic:**_ _For the record, I thought it was funny. I don't know what that says about either of us, but here we are._


	10. Chapter 9: Answers

It had taken two gloriously uneventful days for things to fall apart, but fall apart they did… as usual. Even through the malevolent wilderness, the Shepherd, Squire, and seraphim actually managed to keep their spirits relatively high. After all, they knew what they had to do; all that was left was to do it.

Of course, there were still a few loose ends here and there, but Rose found herself quite content to tie them up later. For now, it was enough to be back with her friends, talking and laughing and making light of the darkness. Even Dezel seemed to be in a good mood for once, though his smile invariably evaporated whenever Zaveid tried to join in the fun.

But all Rose's hope and humor had vanished, now that she stood amid the ruins of what had once been the city of Marlind. By the time they'd reached Falkewin Hillside, she had started looking forward to a hot meal and bath at the nearest inn—but even before they reached the city, she'd realized with an unpleasant jolt that such comforts would prove impossible: the gates had come off their hinges, lying broken on the ground.

The sight that awaited them had been what Rose had expected, but that didn't make it any less powerful: the entire city and half its surrounding forest had been reduced to splinters. Immediately, she and Sorey had agreed to split up and look for survivors, with each of them searching half the city; they would meet in the clearing near the giant tree. Puzzlingly, Rose found no bodies in her search—but she knew better than to entertain the vague and unlikely hope that the townspeople had escaped. More likely, most of them had turned hellion and dispersed.

It was just her luck that she had picked the smaller half of town to explore; now, she stood in the center of the clearing with Dezel at her side, waiting for Sorey and the others to return. In the fading light, it was altogether too easy to imagine the ghosts of all the people whom they had arrived too late to save; but Rose found that if she turned her back on Neif's crumbling cabin, little enough of the damage was visible that she could _almost_ imagine that the rest of the city was still intact.

It might have been empty comfort, but it was comfort nonetheless… until Dezel's heavy hand on her shoulder startled her; she jumped, her hands automatically flying to her knives—forcing herself to relax as he murmured, "You okay?"

Rose debated telling him she was _fine_ , thank you very much, but she knew all too well he'd never believe her anyway, and let out a long breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. "No," she admitted, crossing her arms, and stared up at the branches of the gigantic tree. "How can we save the world if we can't even save the people in it?"

"You can't be everywhere at once," Dezel told her, glancing up as Sorey rounded the corner; judging by his somber solitude, he hadn't found anyone either. "And besides, if you let the source go unchecked, nothing will change. Eliminate the cause, and all these effects will stop."

Rose glowered at him; why did he always have to be so _right_? But before she could ask as much, the seraphim emerged as Sorey drew near, shaking his head, and came to a halt before them. "Nothing," he told her dejectedly, and that single word was enough.

"Same here," responded Rose, sighing, and kicked at the mud underfoot. "I hope Rohan and Atakk are okay," she mumbled, glancing worriedly at the tree trunk once more. The thought had crossed her mind once before, when she'd seen the ruined sanctuary, but it had been quickly displaced by the recognition of shattered gravestones—and her subsequent ghost-inspired panic.

Lailah bowed her head, raising a hand to her heart. "I can't feel their blessing anymore, certainly," she murmured solemnly. "But neither do I sense a malevolent domain. Whether pure or corrupted, both of them have moved elsewhere."

There was a collective sigh of dreary weariness before Mikleo spoke. "If that's the case, then… would it be safe to stay here?" he asked hesitantly, crossing his arms and eyeing the stormy sky. "It's going to be dark soon, anyway, and I don't think any of us have the energy to move elsewhere after a day like this."

Rose nodded in agreement, but not everyone shared the sentiment. "Speak for yourself, Mikboy," returned Zaveid, stretching flippantly with a sly sort of smirk, and the group rolled their collective eyes at the irreverence of his display. "I'm always up for anything."

"Unless it involves being _quiet_ ," pointed out Edna sharply, poking him in the ribs with her parasol; he yelped, and Dezel smiled. Rose shook her head; she'd had a couple days to get used to Zaveid's presence among them, but she still wasn't entirely sure what she thought of him. Given his macho sort of bravado, she was inclined to be annoyed; but his smiles all seemed a little sheepish, and she got the feeling he was acting in accordance with a personality that no longer fully applied to him.

"Let's make camp," decided Sorey eventually, drawing Rose out of her thoughts; she nodded resolutely, cracking her knuckles and braving a smile. If she wanted to make sure nothing like this ever happened again, she ought to start with a good night's rest.

* * *

…Well, so much for that; Sorey snored softly by Rose's side, but she couldn't for the life of her fall asleep. Maybe it _was_ his snoring; maybe it was the uneven patter of heavy raindrops on canvas, falling from leaves above; maybe it was her late-night thoughts, indistinct and troubled. Or maybe it was the wind stirring the tent, shallow and rhythmic like breathing.

Since there wasn't enough room for Dezel in the tent, and he couldn't stay inside Rose, he had agreed to sleep just outside, under the giant tree… but the wind patterns told Rose he was still awake. Frowning slightly, she wondered whether it was safe for him to stay on guard duty so late; any of the other seraphim could rest during tomorrow's journey, since they lived inside Sorey (which was still a weird thought), but Dezel would have to walk, no matter what.

Rose debated going outside to tell him so, though she figured he'd probably just tell her to go to sleep, but one of the seraphim might have had the same idea; she heard someone emerge from the slumbering Sorey, footsteps materializing just outside. Rose shifted slightly in place; seraphim never felt the call of nature, so what were they doing? Should she get up and follow them?

"What do you want?" That was Dezel's wary voice, low but still clearly audible. He couldn't be more than ten feet away, after all, and canvas walls were thin.

"I want to know your story," responded Zaveid's voice, slightly labored as he might have sat down next to Dezel, and Rose raised her eyebrows. Curiouser and curiouser. "How you came to join the Shepherd in the first place, since you're out for blood, and why you left him and slipped into Rose like it was nothing. It's only been a couple days, and you've barely talked to me—but I can tell there's something going on, and I want to know what."

Dezel gave a long and sibilant sigh, and Rose could imagine him fidgeting with his hat; she found herself smiling faintly. "It's a long story," he told him abruptly, and Rose frowned. Making excuses wasn't like him; she'd have expected him to tell Zaveid in no uncertain terms to leave him alone and mind his own business.

"We've got all night," pointed out Zaveid. "I'll tell you mine to make it fair. Anything you want to know," he added, with unusual seriousness. "I'll answer your questions if you answer mine, and I'll do it first. Deal?" Dezel must have nodded, because Zaveid's next words were, "So, where do you want me to start?"

"How do you kill hellions with that thing?" asked Dezel promptly, perhaps indicating that strange weapon. _Siegfried_ , he'd called it. An odd name for an odd item.

"Oh, this?" asked Zaveid, and there was a click; Rose guessed he had drawn it out. "It fires pure power. If I shoot a hellion, it neutralizes the malevolence; if I shoot myself, it gives me strength." There was a bitter smile in his voice as he continued, "But see, it all comes from my own energy. You might say I give my life to take others'."

"Why?" asked Dezel, somewhere between curious and scornful, and there was a barely perceptible rustle of leather; Rose thought he might have crossed his arms.

"Death is a form of salvation for some," responded Zaveid. "Nobody _wants_ to become a hellion. Since I couldn't purify them on my own, I decided the next best thing was a quick end." He gave a light sigh. "My friends used to help me out, but even my more casual acquaintances are long gone by now. Dead, or worse." Zaveid paused meaningfully. "Except… one."

Rose's breath caught at the implication; did those two know each other? It would certainly explain Zaveid's guarded interest and Dezel's tense distance over the past couple days, anyway. Sure enough, he asked in a hushed voice, "Do I… know you?"; Rose remembered when she'd asked Dezel much the same question only a few nights ago, and smiled somewhat ironically at the parallel. Now he would know how it felt.

Zaveid laughed quietly in response. "It's a bad sign when someone so young has already forgotten something so recent," he chuckled. "A hundred years ago, maybe less, one of my friends and I were hunting a hellion in Lhitwerg Woods, but some kid had beaten us to it," began Zaveid, a smile in his voice. "He was just a little rascal, you know, going up against that hellion all on his own—no chance of survival unassisted. So we helped out, and between his shuriken and my pendulums, we sent that hellion right back to hell.

"When he saw us bring that thing down, the brat looked like he wanted to run," continued Zaveid, "but he was shaking too bad and sat down instead. I thought for sure he wouldn't talk, but my friend had this way about him, you know? He asked his name, and the kid gave his true one. Accurate as usual," he remarked. "Something about clear sight—and even after all he'd seen, that boy wasn't anywhere near crying. He just gave us this defiant little scowl." He laughed. "Like you're doing now."

"Lukeim Yurlin," murmured Dezel, and Rose's eyes widened as his name crossed her mind automatically; her lips even formed the word, the traditional instinct to say it, but she smothered it. "And your friend was…"

"That's right," responded Zaveid, and Rose silently encouraged him to say the name; fortunately, she almost immediately got her wish: "The two of us brought you out of the forest. Lafarga didn't like to leave you unprotected, so I gave you my pendulums. From the way you wielded the wind, I knew you'd be able to use them."

There was a brief pause as if in remembrance before Zaveid resumed his story: "After that, you tailed us for what must have been decades. I don't know if you were trying to hide it or not, but I sensed you following us. In this way, I taught you to fight… from a distance. Until one day," he added reminiscently, "you helped us take down an especially vicious drake."

"It was threatening a band of mercenaries," Dezel put in, sounding almost excited in his recognition. "I remember that."

"And Lafarga wanted to stay with them and make sure they were all right," continued Zaveid. "I knew the time had come for us to part ways; he'd been talking about finding another line of work for years. Besides," he added, "As soon as he called you over, I knew you'd stay with him, and I figured he'd be fine as long as he had your companionship. So I left." There was an invitation in his voice, almost like a question.

"Even though those mercenaries couldn't see us," added Dezel, picking up where Zaveid left off, "they believed in us. They didn't have a unifying name yet, since they weren't an organized group till that moment, so they agreed to call themselves the Windriders in our honor." He sighed, and Rose imagined him looking down at himself at his next words: "I don't really remember growing up, but I must have at some point."

"Funny how it sneaks up on you like that," agreed Zaveid, laughing. "Anyway, I really should have checked in more often, but you know how it goes. By the time I thought to visit, the Windriders had been condemned for treason, and Lafarga was missing in action." Rose braced herself for his next words, loath to relive the moment; but she knew she knew so little of the situation that she knew it could only be beneficial to listen further. "What happened to them? To _you_?"

"A hellion happened," responded Dezel bitterly, and Rose's tired eyes fluttered open automatically in sudden understanding before she remembered to close them again. (Where reading the wind was concerned, she took no chances; the last thing she wanted was for them to sense her wakefulness somehow, and catch her eavesdropping.) "Rose's fiancé."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up," interrupted Zaveid, momentarily forgetting to keep his voice down, though Dezel hushed him as he continued, "Rose was _engaged_?" She pressed her hand against her mouth to keep from laughing at his incredulity. "I've only known her for a couple days and all, but she doesn't exactly strike me as the type to settle down."

"Believe me, I was surprised too," responded Dezel resentfully. "Then again, he was a Rolancian prince. A pathetic excuse for a prince, but a prince nonetheless." His words were a growl worthy of a dragon, and Rose shuddered despite herself as he spat viciously, "Pretentious blue-blooded _weakling_ ," and fell silent.

Maybe it was just because Rose had gotten in the habit of speaking no ill of the dead, but such animosity five years after the fact struck her as… odd. She didn't realize which direction her thoughts tended until Zaveid summed them up: "Sounds like someone was jealous," he told him, surprisingly serious—and more shockingly still, Dezel did not deny it.

"I had every right to disapprove," he snapped. "She _was_ my vessel."

At his unceremonious words, Rose's blood ran cold, and her breath caught; the pulse humming in her ears overpowered whatever Zaveid said next, and she felt as though she were falling through nothingness. Rose had previously thought Dezel's unseen companionship comforting; it was true that there were some moments scattered throughout her life which she would rather he not have seen, but for the most part, his was a benevolent presence.

Yet to find out, so suddenly, that Dezel had not only been looking after her, but living inside her? This must have been what he and Lailah had spoken of so mysteriously a couple days ago, she realized; but how could he have kept such a secret from _her_ , while Lailah somehow understood? Had he told the others? _Most of them put the pieces together long before you did,_ she thought.

Remembering abruptly to focus on the conversation at hand, she hastily tuned in again just in time for Dezel to say, "But Konan said he'd be willing to spare her if she became his mistress," and she choked back a sob at the memory with some difficulty. But fortunately, any whimper that might have escaped was muffled by a noise of disgust from Zaveid.

"Rose fought back, even though she was outmatched," continued Dezel, a note of sorrowful pride in his voice. "And Lafarga intercepted Konan's attack so that she could land the final blow…" She had lost consciousness shortly thereafter, Rose recalled bitterly. "But the malevolence sought out a new host, and he was corrupted."

"Is that when you lost your sight?" asked Zaveid, his voice low.

There was only a small pause as Dezel either nodded or shook his head; he did not answer his question in words. "I was able to rescue Rose," he faltered, "and a number of her comrades. Mostly the younger ones. But I—I couldn't prevent Brad's execution." His voice broke, and Rose found that her throat was constricted; she swallowed painfully, desperately trying to keep her breathing as even as possible.

"All I know," he continued, with an effort, his teeth grit, "is that it was that girl's fault. She was there the whole time." He took a deep breath as if to calm himself, but this had no audible effect; it didn't help that Rose had missed the context, if he'd said anything about a girl before. "I thought she was a hellion at first, because she saw everything, and never lifted a finger to help. But I don't care _what_ she is," he growled, teeth clenched. "She summoned that malevolence. She corrupted Lafarga!"

There was a shivering moment of quiet as Rose's breath hitched with a sudden realization. So that was the source of his preoccupation with Lunarre's superior: a new sense of comprehension dawned on her, intertwined with dread. If Dezel was right, Lunarre was answering to the same girl whom had caused the Windriders' downfall. Why…?

Zaveid sighed, almost patronizingly, and steered the subject away. "You know, Rose must be pretty special if she stayed pure enough to keep you from becoming a hellion through all of that." He hesitated, in a way that made Rose think he had a question. "Whatever reasons you might have had for joining the Shepherd, I'll never get why you bothered _staying_ ," he confessed finally. "You weren't too cut up about giving up your spot as Sub Lord, and you even told Sorey you don't need him anymore." He sighed heavily. "So… why are you still here?"

"You really want to know?" returned Dezel almost before Zaveid had finished speaking, his voice a dangerous murmur edged with a sharp and humorless smile. "I live for my revenge." And at his last word, Rose thought of the morning she could not remember, of the very beginning of the Scattered Bones—on the verge of epiphany. "I'm going to kill the one who brought the Windriders down. And since she's malevolent, I'm more likely to find her if I travel with the Shepherd."

"And how exactly do you plan to do that?" asked Zaveid, sounding more apprehensive than curious. "Kill the girl, I mean."

Dezel laughed lightly, darkly, in a single short breath. "Rose _is_ the perfect vessel," he remarked. "Her resonance has been attuned to my blessing from the beginning, so I'm as comfortable in her skin as in my own. And our armatus is powerful enough that if I took control, I could probably use it to kill that girl… seraph or hellion, pure or malevolent." He paused, his voice becoming lower and more fervent and frankly terrifying, as though he had repeated his next words to himself over and over again: "I could do it. I could avenge them."

And Rose's heart seemed to stop as something cold and sharp clicked into place within it. She almost retched at the sudden realization, trembling; she didn't want to understand, because she was afraid that if she fully grasped what he had done to her—what he had _always_ done to her, from the very beginning—she would never be the same again. Rose could not keep herself from trembling as Lunarre's taunt echoed once more in her head, this time addressed to her. _So many times he's pulled the strings, like you're just his pretty little puppet_. It all made far too much sense.

"That's messed up," exclaimed Zaveid furiously, and Rose was momentarily startled out of her shock at his unexpectedly vehement agreement with her thoughts; the source of his voice moved as he spoke, and she thought he might have gotten to his feet. "Rose's purity is the last barrier between you and corruption—which, by the way, you have _thoroughly_ earned," he snarled. "You should be thanking her on bended knee that you're still a seraph. If you're going to act like a hellion anyway, you don't deserve her!"

"I've learned," hissed Dezel fiercely (and he too seemed to have stood up), "that if I want to interact with humanity, I must act through a human." Zaveid took some unseen and dismissive action, and Dezel growled deep in his throat; she shivered. "I agonized over the alternatives for days, but this was the best and most painless way for us both. The Scattered Bones have risen from the ashes of the Windriders, and neither Rose nor I could have created them alone."

Rose wanted nothing more than to bury her face in her pillow and scream, but she couldn't move; there were no words that could accurately describe her horror and disgust. She felt as though rigor mortis had set in prematurely, trapping her in a nightmarish reality; had her body ever truly been her own? Had her _mind_? The idea that she'd always had so little control over her own existence made her head spin, and for a moment, she was convinced she would black out.

But Zaveid's voice brought her back once more. "When you look at her," he began, his voice shaking with quiet rage, "do you just see a means to an end? Oh, you may care for her in the meantime," he added scathingly, raising his voice ever-so-slightly as if to dissuade him from protesting, "but when the time comes… will you sacrifice her life, or her sanity, for the sake of your precious _revenge_? Do you care about vengeance more than your vessel?"

Rose found herself surprised, in the small part of her consciousness not consumed with panic, at the passion of Dezel's response. "Don't you dare," he told Zaveid furiously, "tell me I'm selfish. I care about Rose more than I care about myself. I'm not proud of what I've done, but I'd do it all again. It was all for Lafarga, for the Windriders, for _her_ , and it was all for the best!"

After his outburst, Dezel let out a long breath, his voice becoming soft and hoarse, so that Rose had to strain her ears to hear him: "She may be my instrument of justice, but I'd sooner die myself than let her come to harm for the sake of my revenge. I wanted the armatus because I thought it would lessen the risk—but if there's a way to become powerful enough to kill the girl without having to use Rose to begin with," he continued, "then there's no need for me to put her in danger again."

At his words, she frowned spasmodically; there was such an inconsistency between what he said and what he did. Did he truly care for her, or not? In the late hours of the night, she couldn't understand the contradiction—but Zaveid made a noise of comprehension. "So that's why you asked how I do it," he responded slowly, and there was a faint sound as though he was scratching his head. "I see."

There was a long silence, and Rose half thought the conversation was over, but eventually Zaveid spoke again, and her heavy heart sank once more. "If that's the case, would you ever consider trading weapons?" he asked, almost casually. "Like, you take Siegfried and give me Rose?"

The effect was immediate. "What do you want with her?" snapped Dezel suspiciously, bristling, and Rose might have felt either flattered or furious at the exchange if she hadn't still been so numb from shock. Was this what vesselhood truly meant—being treated like a pet with no will of her own, or traded like a commodity whose only value was in malleability?

"Simmer down," Zaveid told him, and though his words were slightly lighter in tone, he was no less serious than he had been before. "It was a hypothetical situation. But if you really want to keep Rose out of trouble so badly," he added, a dark smile in his voice, "you'd have agreed without so much as a hesitation."

"Never," retorted Dezel shortly.

Zaveid let out a sharp, breathy laugh. "Then I've got a couple questions for you," he said. "Are you truly acting in her best interests by clinging to her like this—or are you just too selfish to give her up even when a better option presents itself? Who do you _really_ care about most, and why?"

"Go to hell!" snarled Dezel, taking a couple aggressive steps towards Zaveid; Rose flinched automatically as his footsteps approached. "I've kept my distance ever since we joined the Shepherd. Now that she's started on the right path of her own free will, there's no need to take over anymore." He gave a strangled sort of sigh. "Not that I can, now, for some reason… so I hope I never have to."

"Oh, so you finally figured that part out, did you," snorted Zaveid skeptically. "But I'll bet you still haven't told your precious vessel about any of this, because you don't want her to see you for what you really ar—" A convulsive choking noise cut him off, and Rose broke into a cold sweat. If Dezel had created the Scattered Bones, he certainly wasn't above murder; would he kill a comrade…?

But there was only a brief and incredibly hostile pause before he spoke. " _Not another word_ ," he snarled, his voice trembling with carefully enunciated fury: there was the zipping sound of retracted pendulums, followed by a labored inhalation just before Zaveid finally retreated into Sorey, still coughing weakly.

And then, there was only silence. Rose didn't know how long she lay there, her heart hammering at her chest and her gut clenching in stress—considering and reconsidering the significance of everything that had ever happened to her. Everything she had refused to think about, or dismissed as trivial, or resolved to forget altogether… it all came back to haunt her with new and terrifying meaning.

More than once over that endless span of time, Rose convinced herself that this was all just a nightmare, if only because she was as powerless to dispel these restless thoughts as she was a dream. She'd never gotten the hang of pinching herself awake, anyway; at this point, she'd gladly _stab_ herself if it meant she would be able to get some rest. But as it was, she simply lay there for untold minutes, listening to Sorey breathing and wishing she could have his peace.

Finally, Rose could stand it no longer; her chest ached and her eyes burned with unspilt tears. Sitting up slowly, she scooted her way towards the tent entrance as quietly as possible. She just had to get far enough away that no one would hear her cry, she told herself desperately; if he was still awake, Zaveid would probably be able to keep Dezel from following her.

…But where would she go? Getting softly to her feet, she glanced around the ruins of Marlind uncertainly. If she ventured down into what used to be the town, it would only disquiet her further; besides, she'd have to pass by the abandoned sanctuary and cemetery to get there. And so, smiling ruefully as she realized she had no other choice, Rose turned her feet to the only place left standing (oh, the irony)—to Dumnonia Museum.

* * *

 _If you thought the characters were a little less in-character this chapter, keep in mind that Zaveid has successfully gotten under Dezel's skin within seconds of each of their meetings in canon (which have both culminated in physical fights anyway), and his past is his pressure point. Add in the fact that he gets pretty defensive about his decisions, and there you have it. Angry Dezel. Hope we won't be seeing too much more of him, because he's a little scary._

 _Anyhow, in the coming chapters: more moving forward, less looking back! Though there might be a sort of… gradual acceleration, since there's Rose's reaction to consider. Oh, and if you caught the reference in Rose's dialogue this chapter, you win an internet cookie._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Haha, here's the 'information' half of the Dezel-and-Rose equation. As for the rest of it, I'm sure we'll have ourselves a merry little meltdown soon enough; but for now, it's the calm before the storm. One mystery solved; a hundred others to go!_

 _ **PhoenixTheCat:**_ _Yeah, the dragon's got them beaten by like, a week. I mean, it's got flight on its side and all, and even with two windsteppers on their side, Sorey and friends can't move that fast. Especially since all this is happening too._

 _ **Straya:**_ _*reads review three times trying to compose adequate response* Okay, first of all, thank you so much for all the compliments! Of all the praise you could offer, the flattery that means the most pertains to characterization and world-building, so I'm really happy about that. Dezel is also my favorite Zestiria character, just a hair's breadth ahead of Rose, and I ship them together like hell. (Hence why I like the bad ending slightly better.) As a last note, the first part of "down the line" happened a lot sooner than everyone anticipated, but I hope it lived up to expectations!_


	11. Chapter 10: The Lunatic's Lullaby

Rose drew her ever-present knives as she stepped through the museum door, praying to four out of the Five Lords that she'd be able to handle any attackers on no sleep. Even if she didn't sense any malevolence, she'd never been the best at identifying it to begin with, and such was the turmoil inside her that she honestly couldn't tell if she was safe anymore.

This had been a terrible idea, Rose moaned to herself; it was pitch-black in here, and as much as she needed someplace to cry, she'd rather cry someplace light. But at least nothing was attacking her, even after almost a minute of standing perfectly still. Taking a cautious step forward, she tripped over something and cursed aloud; even with her senses heightened, she still couldn't see a damn thing.

Sheathing one of her knives, she knelt to examine what lay in her path, and felt along her stumbling block. It was cold, and covered in clothing, but definitely.… an arm. A human arm, or an arm that had once been human. Her blood turned icy for the third time that night, and she was almost grateful for this horror; at least it kept her mind off the nature of her own existence.

Feeling along motionless fingers, her fingernails clicked against some sort of ring. Rose frowned, exploring further to feel out ornate engravings; to be worn with a glove, this ring had to be something special. As if triggered by her action, the hand sprang suddenly to life—faster even than her reflexes. And just like that, before she could either scramble back or call for help, it smothered her mouth.

There was too much weight behind it to be disembodied, she realized in the back of her mind, just before it slammed her head into the ground with carefully measured strength; it wasn't enough to knock her out, only to daze her. And likewise, the hand slipped down to her throat… allowing her to breathe, but not to scream. She realized that her hand had slackened, and her attacker held her knife in its other hand.

Rose twisted beneath her assailant, struggling against its overwhelming strength—but as she turned her legs sideways in the hope of creating enough momentum to break free, her adversary clenched them both powerfully between its own. Humanoid, then. She gave a muffled cry of pain as her back twisted, an elbow driving into her shoulder to pin her there… and just like that, she was rendered well and truly helpless.

Blue fire sputtered into existence above her, and Rose's eyes widened in horrified recognition. "You know, we've got to stop meeting like this, boss," grinned Lunarre eerily, brandishing her own knife at her. "People might talk." But Rose felt too faint either to speak or spit; she only stared up at him, holding her breath, unthinking in her shock and pain. This was the end. He had won, and all because she'd been fool enough to venture here alone.

Lunarre's nostrils flared as he breathed deeply, and smiled, his eyes half-closed. "You're afraid," he observed, bringing his face too close to hers, and she flinched at his proximity. "You're _terrified_!" he cackled, sitting up; the painful pressure on her shoulder lifted, and she turned the rest of her body to align with her legs.

But that arm was too weak to move, and the other wasn't at the right angle to draw her remaining knife and attack… and he knew it. "But not of me," whispered Lunarre, bending low over her, sliding his forearm under her head like a sort of pillow: his fire faded as he did so. Rose stirred faintly beneath him, trying desperately to scoot back as he leaned his forehead against hers in an unsettling gesture of affection: his hot breath brushed past her ear, and she shuddered as a chill ran up and down her spine. "Never of me."

She opened her mouth to say something (she knew not what), but Lunarre straightened up again quite abruptly—withdrawing his arm so that her head thudded against the ground once more; she grimaced. The fire ignited around her knife again as he stretched luxuriously, keeping one hand in place to ensure her silence, and his sharp fingernails dug involuntarily into her neck through his glove.

"I've got a proposition for you, boss," smiled Lunarre, eyeing Rose in hungry appreciation. "You should like it; you do so love striking bargains." He licked his lips. "If you promise not to call for help, I'll promise not to kill you. Even if you _beg_ for death!" he laughed gleefully.

"No deal," managed Rose, her voice somewhat strangled, but trying to clear her throat only made matters worse. "I'm no use to you d-dead. You don't want to kill me."

Lunarre narrowed his eyes, his mirth vanishing. "No," he spat eventually, by way of confession, and Rose winced as a drop of his saliva seemed to burn her cheek. "Not yet, anyway. Because a quick death is a mercy you never showed _me_!" His hand tightened momentarily on her throat, but relaxed again swiftly, and he took a deep breath as if to calm himself.

"You wanted… t-to die?" asked Rose weakly, astonished.

"But tonight isn't about me," snarled Lunarre by way of continuation, and she wasn't sure whether he had heard her or not, but she certainly didn't have the strength to repeat herself. "Tonight is about _you_ , isn't it? That's what brought you here." His flames flickered brighter in his palm momentarily, glancing off the blade of her knife.

"I—I don't underst—" stammered Rose, swallowing convulsively, her eyes fixed on the blue blaze as it dimmed once more. He held her knife; why did he not use it? She prided herself on her ability to bear almost any bodily harm, but she had never coped well with enduring mind games.

Lunarre snickered. "So how does it feel?" he breathed. "To know you're not really yourself. Just the poor little pawn of a scheming seraph," he added softly, wiping away a runaway tear almost tenderly with gloved thumb, and met her eyes with a sly smile. "He's guided you from the shadows for so long, dragging you down with him into the depths of darkness. And now that you see the light, it hurts your eyes, doesn't it?"

"Shut _up_ ," sobbed Rose through grit teeth, unable to hold back her tears any longer: she resigned herself to letting them stream hotly down her cheeks, sniffling resentfully as she glared up at him.

"Oh, what's wrong?" asked Lunarre, his golden feline eyes widening in cruel amusement… but Rose noticed a spark of anger hidden in their depths, which ignited the next moment. "You should be pleased! The plan was for the truth to tear you apart from the inside out, because its wounds hurt worse than any weapon. But even after all that torment, all that torture, you still have your _purity_!"

Rose frowned in confusion; that was unexpectedly inspirational, coming from someone who was apparently hell-bent on corrupting her. But her mind and body both froze as Lunarre closed his eyes lazily, nestling his face into the crook of her neck; his voice became a husky growl. "Which means there's a new plan," he murmured; Rose shuddered as his lips brushed her skin. "Now, it falls to me to make you malevolent… and I know how to spread the poison better than a seraph ever could."

She gasped as Lunarre sank sharp fangs into the side of her neck; a jolt of energy surged through her along with the pain, and she threw him off in a sudden motion: his fire flickered and died, leaving them in darkness. Rose was still too breathless to scream, but she made a valiant effort at a battle cry as she rolled him over to sit atop his torso, pressing her blade to his throat. "I hate you," she whispered, the only way she could articulate her maelstrom of thoughts.

The flames leapt into existence again, off to the side, illuminating the scene with a guttering blue light: Lunarre only licked her blood slowly off his lips, gazing into her eyes with burning detestation. "I hate you more," he spat contemptuously, the fire flaring up with the force of his loathing. "I'd bathe in your blood if she hadn't told me to consume it. I'd feast on your flesh if she hadn't told me to make it mine!"

Rose's hand shook; whether in fear or fury, she wasn't sure. But this did not escape Lunarre's notice: "I can feel you trembling," he hissed. "You haven't slept all night. I can't kill you, and you won't kill me." She almost slit his throat just to prove him wrong, but something made her hesitate, and his grin widened. "If you do, I lose the battle but win the war, and you know it."

"I hate you," repeated Rose in a mutter, the thought consuming her consciousness so that she could think of nothing else. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you! _I hate you_!" She was shrieking now, hoarsely, barely able to breathe for ragged sobbing. Swaying in place, she fell forward, catching herself by two hands on either side of Lunarre's head. How dare he grin like that…!

"You really take after him, you know," he goaded her, sitting up beneath her so that she slid uncomfortably into his lap. "Are you sure he's not controlling you right now? Are you going to forget this, too?" He brushed her hair out of her face, looking into her eyes with cruel and contradictory compassion—that was what Brad had always done—how dare he—!

" _Stop it_!" screamed Rose, hysterical, and drew her other knife, plunging it into his chest with a sense of savage triumph. But his form flickered suddenly, and she missed. Puzzled, she pushed herself up, brought the blade back, and tried again, this time closer to the heart. But his form faded once more so that the blade went straight through him, as though he were an illusion.

He smiled at her, raising his arms as if in surrender; at this mocking gesture, Rose lost what little composure she had. Again and again she tried to stab him, with the same results each time; there was a long, unbroken screech in the background, and only after the thirteenth missed mark did Rose realize it came from herself. Faltering, panting, she recognized within herself an alarming and animalistic ferocity, and realized as if surfacing from a sea of shadows that she must not—she _could_ not—let it take her over.

Rose's resolution lent her strength, and though Lunarre smiled—his features illuminated with some sinister new strategy—she did not let herself be concerned. Forcing all troubled thoughts of vesselhood from her mind, she remembered her family: Brad and his hearty laugh; Eguille and his steadfast support; Rosh and his beautiful calligraphy; Talfryn and Felice racing her to dinner; Mayvin reading her tales from the Celestial Record. Even Dezel, for all his duplicity, had always looked out for her…

The strength of Rose's hatred left her suddenly, and she slumped forward to sob into Lunarre's chest, his slow pulse beating against her ear. (So he did still have a heart after all; much good it did either of them.) He had been a part of her family, too, she realized, and her eyes widened; as though sensing her thoughts, he laughed faintly, his chuckle becoming a low and melodic hum.

" _Hush, child; the darkness will rise from the deep, and carry you down into sleep_ ," crooned Lunarre in a hoarse but surprisingly silvery tenor… or was that baritone…? He put an arm roughly around her as he went on, pressing insistently on her lower back, drawing her closer, closer, too close; his peculiar ring dug into her spine, but her mind was elsewhere. He'd sung this song a few times before, she remembered dimly, when he was still human—though it seemed to mean something different, now that the darkness had carried him down.

Sudden sorrow, more than her fear and frustration, let her tears flow more freely; she took two anguished fistfuls of Lunarre's modified Scattered Bones uniform, imploring him silently to come back to her, to give up his mission and become the man he once had been. Overwhelmed with exhaustion, Rose found herself closing her eyes despite herself; was he weaving some sort of soporific arte, or was she just too tired to fight her fatigue any longer…?

"Rose!" exclaimed a frantic voice, as though from a great distance, and she frowned slightly. She knew she hadn't lost consciousness, but there seemed to be a moment missing from her memory, because there was no way Lunarre could have left her without her noticing. How was it that she lay curled on the floor, alone? _Had_ she been asleep—was that just a nightmare? (Yet, as surreal as it was, it didn't feel like a dream.)

"Are you okay?" asked Sorey, and her salt-sticky eyes fluttered open at last as he helped her sit up, supporting her by the shoulders. He'd brought a lantern, thank goodness; dim light was better by far than no light at all. "W-we heard a scream," he added, his eyes brimful of earnest worry and fixed intently on her face.

Rose hesitated, then nodded, leveling her gaze at the lantern. "Lunarre," she croaked by way of explanation, clearing her throat, and raised her hand to touch her bite mark. She grimaced as the puncture wounds stung, glancing at her bloodstained fingers briefly before hiding them in her other hand. Thank goodness the holes were on the other side of her neck; she didn't need Sorey to worry about her too much.

He blinked in shock, doubt clouding his gaze. "Lunarre?" he repeated, plainly bewildered, and Rose nodded. Gods, her head felt heavy. "But… we didn't feel any malevolence. Not even Lailah, and you know she's more sensitive than the rest of us combined."

"I don't know," muttered Rose, choking on an enormous yawn, which Sorey promptly caught. "It's been a long night. Maybe it was a nightmare."

"Were you _sleeping_ here?" asked Sorey hesitantly, glancing around dubiously. "Was my snoring keeping you awake?" he added anxiously, turning a few shades ruddier in the lantern-light; Rose might have laughed at his embarrassment, if she had remembered how. As it was, she was fairly certain she'd never smile again.

"No," she assured him distractedly. "I wasn't… I don't think I was asleep. Just thinking." Rose knew she had to change the subject so he wouldn't ask about her thoughts, and quickly; he never _meant_ to pry, but talking about it wouldn't help her this time. "Where's Dezel?" she remembered suddenly, narrowing her eyes, and could not keep the bitterness out of her voice. "Shouldn't _he_ be the one who finds me?"

Though Rose gazed expectantly up at Sorey, he did not meet her eyes. "The others didn't want to let me out of their sight," he confessed. "But Zaveid said I could always summon them if I needed to, and he seemed pretty confident I wouldn't run into any trouble." He paused, smiling somewhat awkwardly, and rushed on, "I guess he can read the wind, so—"

"I asked about _Dezel_ ," interrupted Rose, the lateness (or perhaps earliness) of the hour shortening her speech. "So tell me about Dezel." Sorey winced as though she had hit him, closing his eyes, but Rose did not look away from his face: he knew, she realized, and she buried her face in her knees. He knew, and he knew she knew he knew.

"I'm sorry," murmured Sorey haltingly, and he really sounded sincere, massaging her shoulder so softly—but she shrugged off his hand. "He told us not to tell you."

"What did he say?" asked Rose, her voice thankfully trembling too much for her to yell at him yet. She'd probably reduce him to tears if she shouted, and that was something neither of them needed. "How much do you know?"

Sorey hesitated, then sighed and shook his head. "After he became my Sub Lord, he only said you were his vessel, and that he wanted revenge on some hellion for tarnishing the Windriders' name," he began, and Rose frowned in confusion; he wasn't lying. "But at least one of the times we met before then," he continued, "it wasn't really you. It was… Dezel, in your unconscious body. He never told us outright, but Lailah and Edna noticed."

"So you knew," remarked Rose, half to herself, and looked up again to stare at nothing. "You _knew_ , and you never told me." She'd been surrounded by the truth for as long as she'd lived, and no one had ever entrusted her with it. Not Dezel, who claimed to be protecting her. Not Sorey, who was like a brother to her. Not any of his Sub Lords, who claimed to be her friends. Nobody.

"He asked us not to, Rose," responded Sorey, a pleading note in his voice. "He didn't want you to lose confidence in yourself just because he was there to look after you. It was part of the terms of his—"

"I don't _care_!" exclaimed Rose furiously, scrambling away from Sorey as he tried once more to rest his hand on her shoulder; she staggered to her feet, swaying in place. "I know how the pieces fit better than you ever could!" she ranted, pacing unsteadily. "He's going to use me to take his revenge. He's going to take over my body and use the armatus to kill a seraph!"

Sorey's eyes widened as he stood up. "He's… _what_?"

"And you just let him come with you anyway," realized Rose, staring at him disbelievingly. "You knew what he wanted all along, and you still took him with you! Are you _stupid_?" she asked, hurling words like weapons, and Sorey flinched. "Why would you do that?"

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "Dezel would have become a hellion if we took you away from him," he told her quietly, brokenly, almost fearfully. "You _know_ he cares about you, Rose. Everything he's done has been to—"

" _Then let him become a hellion_!" shrieked Rose, beside herself with indignation, and Sorey stumbled a couple steps back. "You couldn't separate us because Dezel might get malevolent. You didn't tell me what he's done to me, what he's planning, because Dezel didn't want you to say anything. Doesn't anyone care about what I think—how _I_ feel?" she demanded, breathing hard. "It's my body! _It's my soul_!"

"Rose—" tried Sorey, looking alarmed, but she wasn't done yet.

"I left my entire life behind to find out what kind of person you really are," she hissed, approaching a few paces. "And I thought I'd figured it out. So I've killed for you, and I might even have died for you. But I'm tired of being used and lied to and kept in the dark," snapped Rose. "If this is what being a Squire means, I'm through! Kick Alisha around instead!"

Even as she spoke, she understood the unfairness of her words, but there was no taking it back; there was a moment of stunned silence, during which she dropped her gaze. "You're… bleeding," frowned Sorey eventually, his eyes snagging on her bite mark, and took a couple steps towards her.

"It's nothing," responded Rose shortly, her hand flying up automatically to cover it, and took a defensive position: Sorey stopped short. "Don't tell Dezel about any of this," she added, smirking scathingly. "I want him to suffer," she continued, more savagely. "I want him to wonder whether I hate him, and if he has a heart, I want it to _hurt_."

"But he'll know," responded Sorey, his voice cracking. "That you found out."

Rose bared her teeth, perhaps in a semi-conscious imitation of Lunarre… or of Dezel himself. "It'll still be uncomfortable for him if no one addresses it," she pointed out. "I'll talk to him when I'm good and ready. Until then, no one mentions this at all—you _or_ the others." She glared at him sternly. "Got it?"

Sorey nodded hesitantly, and Rose let out a breath she had unconsciously been holding. She had a plan, she told herself, trying desperately to be triumphant; yet the word _ungrateful_ flitted across her mind, and she frowned. Some half-formed thought murmured urgently that Dezel himself was not to blame for this, that her anger stemmed from another source, that she was making a mistake—but she told herself fiercely to shut up, and the little voice fell silent.

"Sorry," she breathed lamely to Sorey, knowing that a single-word apology could never be enough to make up for all she had said to him tonight. "I… I just want to go home," she whimpered, her last tear escaping. The Windriders had no single home, because home was where the wind brought them. Home was _everywhere_ , and she missed it like hell.

But Sorey only nodded, giving her a small and sad smile as he blinked back tears of his own. "Me too," he whispered, and she allowed him to escort her back to the tent.

* * *

 _And here's a shorter chapter, for the sake of resolution, before we get into actual advancement. I admit that Rose is a lot more emotional here than she was in canon, but in addition to her lack of sleep and confusing confrontation with Lunarre… well, I never did understand how she took all that information in stride and never addressed it again._

 _Even when you roll with the punches like Rose does, that doesn't make you immune to shock—and make no mistake, learning all that would realistically have come as a shock. The most sensible explanation to me is that the canon events all happened so fast that Rose didn't have time to see her perception of reality collapse before her eyes… and of course, she wouldn't speak ill of the dead. Here, she has no such luxury._

 _Oh, and a last note: AlexTheOtaku sent me "Mordred's Lullaby" by Heather Dale around the time I started writing this chapter. Not only is it associated with Arthurian legend like most everything else in Zestiria, but it seemed to fit a hellion's idea of a lullaby, so that's where his refrain is from._

 _ **PhoenixTheCat:**_ _Yeah, I figured Zaveid would want to have a little talk with Dezel after a couple days of being shut down—if only to tell him "Hey, I used to know Lafarga and I kind of want to find out what happened to him, you gonna tell me or what?" Hence, that discussion happened earlier rather than later… except he got more than he bargained for._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Eh, well, Dumnonia Museum isn't all that far away. Physically speaking, he can handle being at that distance from her. Mentally, perhaps, not so much._

 _ **Straya:**_ _Oh man, I totally agree that canon development was ridiculous. In fact, I'm not even going to get started, because my rant will outnumber the words in the actual chapter if I do. But rest assured I agree wholeheartedly with your observations, and I genuinely hope I can do these two wonderful characters the justice they didn't get in canon._


	12. Chapter 11: Plan E

Both journeys—to Ladylake, and to illumination—took three full days.

The first day would have been torture if Rose hadn't been too exhausted to think. The pain in her neck didn't help, but she'd brought that upon herself; she'd permitted them to clean out the bite and stem the bleeding, but she didn't want anyone to remove the scars or even soothe the ache: as loathsome as it was, she wanted to remember everything he had done to her. That, combined with three hours of sleep and a meager breakfast, hadn't exactly made Rose the liveliest traveling companion—but then, it wasn't as though anyone was trying to talk to her; the seraphim huddled inside Sorey, who kept his distance for the most part.

Dezel, meanwhile… well, she vaguely remembered she'd told herself that she'd keep an eye on him, so keep an eye on him she did. Constantly. He noticed, but said nothing—not even to offer to carry her, as Sorey had several times… but he _did_ catch her when she inevitably stumbled, more than once. But unfortunately, though she maintained her unspoken vow of silence, she forgot to be especially vengeful about it. Grudges were _exhausting_. How had he managed for five whole years?

The second day had been much worse. Sorey had ensured that she got enough rest the night before this time, so her head had hurt like hell, teeming with all the thoughts she'd been able to stave off before then. Rose determined to set Lunarre aside for now, but ended up stuck on the question of why she remained uncorrupted. Two outbursts in one night, yelling at her friends and foes alike… why hadn't she been hellionized? That little dilemma consumed her thoughts so much so that she almost ignored her vendetta entirely.

Eventually, she'd asked Lailah what caused malevolence in the first place; emerging from Sorey, she replied somewhat cautiously that it was _strife_ , internal or external, more than good or evil. But this explanation only created a thousand more questions; Rose had never felt more conflicted in her life, so she would have thought that would only accelerate the process. And if anyone told her she knew the answer 'deep down', she'd set aside her resentment long enough to ask Dezel to strangle them.

Until the third day, when she awakened to the realization that it was quite true. Though Rose still hadn't exactly forgiven Dezel for hijacking her body, she had little choice but to admit that he took very good care of it if she'd never noticed anything amiss over five years. Besides, he'd specifically inquired about Siegfried so that he wouldn't have to do it again, and she knew from the clarity of her memories that he had not done so since they had joined Sorey—just as he'd said.

So, given that she'd already started making allowances for his behavior, what about Dezel's conduct had truly angered her? Half-asleep, pondering the true source of her frustration, she discovered with some surprise that it was less what he had done that bothered her, and more that he'd done it from the shadows. And even that secrecy wasn't entirely his fault; the whole group ought to share the blame, given that they'd all conspired to keep his actions hidden from her… and as long as they didn't do it again, this wasn't worth turning her back on everyone. Or, for that matter, _anyone_ —not even Dezel. Perhaps especially not Dezel.

And so Rose had started the morning with a smile for the first time in days, greeting every companion but the one (to whom she simply nodded once, shortly). Her friends, half-alarmed and half-pleased, inquired after the occasion; she told them, in pointed playfulness, that it was a secret—and to her astonished delight, they understood, and apologized. Privately, she answered to herself that it was just nice that the truth had made itself accessible for once.

Though she still did not speak to Dezel all day, Rose watched him more carefully than ever, becoming sharply aware of all he had done for her. They had not talked at all since that fateful night in the ruins of Marlind, but the cool and distant but definite concern he displayed for her ever since was enough to convince her that he really did care. Not to mention, Dezel _did_ seem far more relaxed now that Rose was in a better mood, and even smiled now and again. But whenever he caught her watching him, he always made a valiant effort to scowl at her—turning away altogether when she laughed and he invariably failed.

Upon thinking back to the Windriders and wondering idly whether Dezel had always been this stubborn, Rose realized quite suddenly that he'd helped keep her family together instead of letting them all scatter. And, once again true to his words, neither he nor Rose could have done that alone. Theirs was a dynamic partnership, even if she hadn't known it until recently, and even if she didn't really like to admit it after everything she'd learned.

But of all these things she realized that day, what might have contributed most to her sense of acceptance was her discovery (upon further thought, last night) that she actually agreed wholeheartedly with Dezel's motivation. Now that she understood the situation, honestly, Rose would _love_ to help him avenge the Windriders. Hellion, human, or seraph—if some bitch had tried to break up her family, she was next on the Scattered Bones' hitlist for sure. And that went double if she was commanding Lunarre, like Dezel seemed to think.

The problem, Rose summarized for herself resolutely, was his obstinate insistence on doing everything alone. It was time for him to work _with_ her, instead of around her or through her… and it was also time for him to realize that. And now that they finally stood at the gates to Alisha's manor, maybe she could share the burden of Squireship at least long enough for Rose to straighten all this out.

If the guards would only let them in.

Mikleo had told her of the hatred for the Shepherd in Lastonbell, but she hadn't really believed it until she'd seen Ladylake. They very nearly hadn't gotten into the city at all; it was only because Rose had shown the soldiers her Sparrowfeathers identification that they had opened the gates just enough to let them pass—pointedly almost catching Sorey's cape when they closed them again.

Though there had been a moment of shining relief as they discovered that Lucas and the Woodsmen had once again evacuated most of the citizens of Marlind and escorted them here, the atmosphere leading up to the nobles' quarter was dark and somber, and Rose didn't like it. Again the guards hadn't let them through until Rose identified herself… and even then, they only did it because of the implication that she was going to sell the Shepherd into slavery.

A third set of soldiers was more than Rose had bargained for, and she was out of ideas. Plan A had served them well, but it wouldn't work here; a merchant would have no business with the princess herself. Plan B was barely a plan at all; she couldn't claim any real friendship, as they'd only met a few times before, and she'd been trying to kill her at least one of those times. Plus, Alisha had only been aware of her identity during that one brief encounter by Falkewin Bridge.

Plan C was also a dud; they wouldn't approve if Sorey tried convincing them he was courting the princess, and he was a terrible liar anyway. _Rose_ certainly couldn't do it, either; for all their spectacular flamboyance, Hyland liked pretending alternate orientations didn't exist just as well as Rolance. (That was one of the reasons why Rose had always wanted to visit the northern continent; she'd heard they didn't care about things like that.)

"But it's _urgent_ ," insisted Sorey desperately, taking an impassioned step forward. Rather than responding in words, they barred the way with their spears; one of them spat at his feet, and he jumped back. Rose glared at the guards as they exchanged a look, probably grinning under those stupid helmets. Well, there went Plan D; she'd never waste her time faux-seducing a lowlife like that—but unfortunately, Rose had no Plan E.

E-for-Escape? No; she'd really prefer not to do anything that would require her to flee the city, especially not without seeing Alisha first. E-for-Exterminate was tempting, but killing these soldiers would win her no friends; besides, as much as she hated their attitude, they probably didn't deserve to die for doing their job. E-for-Eliminating all these impossible possibilities. E-for—

"Shepherd!" exclaimed a young lady-in-waiting, emerging from the manor, and Rose scrutinized her carefully. She'd only seen the girl a couple times and didn't know much about her, but her most distinguishing feature was her devotion to her princess. And she was smiling at the Shepherd: finally, a friendly face. Yes, she would do nicely.

"Ellen!" exclaimed Sorey, smiling in relieved recognition, and Rose actually laughed aloud, much to Dezel's confusion. E-for-Ellen, then. "I'm here to see Alisha," he told the maid as she approached to stand just inside the gate; the guards reluctantly withdrew their spears. "Do you know if she's in?"

"She's out training with Lady Maltran at the moment," responded Ellen; Sorey and Rose exchanged an apprehensive glance, and Dezel crossed his arms. "But please, come into the parlor," she added, gesturing towards the house with a smile. "Milady wouldn't want you to be outside in this weather."

Dezel went first, of course; Rose went after him, glowering at the guards as she passed through, and Sorey followed close behind. As one, they made to bring their spears down again to make clear their disapproval—but Dezel caught both shafts, permitting him to walk under the steel archway unhindered. Letting Sorey go ahead of her, Rose stopped to glance back and grin at the soldiers' bewilderment and fright as they straightened up again.

"We need to talk," she told Dezel quietly as he passed by her; she half expected him to ignore her, but instead he halted, his every muscle tense. Having reached the door, Sorey turned back briefly and frowned, but Rose waved him on; he nodded once, vanishing through the doors. "This way," she added, taking Dezel's arm and dragging him to the patio off to the side.

Only after they got out of the relentless rain did Rose realize that she had no idea what exactly she was going to say. They stood there in relative silence for what might have been a minute, staring one another down—not that Rose could see his eyes, nor could those eyes have seen, but she felt his breeze. And, much to her astonishment, she wasn't the one to initiate Plan E-for-Explanation. "You should hate me," murmured Dezel eventually, barely audible over the long and exhausted exhalation that accompanied his words. "Why don't you hate me?"

"Don't say that," ordered Rose, catching his hand earnestly in both of hers: he made a sudden motion as if to pull away, but evidently thought better of it and relaxed. "It takes the fun out of hating you if you tell me to do it. And anyway, I _don't_ hate you, because I've had three days to think about it. So there." She stuck her tongue out at him.

But Dezel was not in a sportive mood; he bared his teeth in a grimace, turning his face sharply away from her. "So have I," he returned bitterly. "And that's why I'm telling you, you're making a mistake. I know you heard about everything I've done to you," he added, taking his hand from hers with odd gentleness. "I've thought about my actions night and day ever since; I've considered Zaveid's questions over and over again." He hesitated. "And… I've found my answer."

As Rose tilted her head, inviting him to explain, he bowed his head, his words a fierce whisper. "I'm still going to do it," he hissed fervently, and Rose blinked in surprise. "I'm still going to kill her. And, if I have to, I'm still going to use you to do it. _That's_ why you should hate me," he spat, clenching his teeth. "Because however much you mean to me, revenge will always mean more."

"That's… kinda what I wanted to talk to you about," responded Rose, ruffling her hair with a lopsided smile. "So you're still going to kill her. And, if you have to, you're still going to use me to do it. That right?" Dezel nodded once, hesitantly. "But have you considered that maybe I actually want to _help_?"

There was a shocked pause; he opened his mouth, frowning, but said nothing. "Now, don't get me wrong," added Rose, putting her hands on her hips. "I'm still not totally sure how to deal with the fact that you've lived in my body for such a long time, and I definitely don't like that you just controlled me whenever you wanted."

"Only when you were asleep," muttered Dezel, by way of correction.

"Nuance," returned Rose, waving a hand dismissively a split second before she realized what exactly he'd said, and hugged herself uncomfortably. "Also, that's _really_ creepy," she added, scowling suspiciously. "But anyway, my point is that I understand why you did it. And I agree with that reason, even if your methods were a little… weird. So I'm willing to set all that aside until we kill that girl—but after that," she grinned, cracking her knuckles, "you're gonna stand trial."

Dezel winced, and she laughed aloud at his expression. For someone who had such control over her, he sure was nervous. "R-right," he managed finally, readjusting his hat. "So… you're agreeing to help me take my revenge? Just like that?"

Rose shrugged. "Hey, anything to keep control over my own body," she told him playfully, and this time, his lip twitched in the barest hint of a tentative smile. "Besides, it's not just _your_ revenge," she added, crossing her arms and looking him full in the face. "I'm helping whether you like it or not, and I think we'll be stronger if we work together anyway."

Inclining his head thoughtfully, Dezel said nothing at first, but eventually he gave a single chuckle. "It's funny," he remarked, glancing up again and shaking his head with a faint smile. "I was dreading the day you found out the truth, but now that you know, I'm… happier." And Rose could see well enough that it was true, from the relief in his demeanor and the hope in his countenance.

"Don't forget you're standing trial when this is all over," she warned him, struggling to suppress a smile of her own with extremely limited success. But Dezel only tipped his hat to concede her point, and they started in unspoken agreement towards the front door. They walked together slowly, almost reluctantly; something still prodded at the back of Rose's mind.

Resolving to speak her mind before it was too late, she stopped him just outside the entrance. "If you were so afraid I would find out," she began, frowning up at him, "then why would you risk letting me hear you? Why not go somewhere more private first?"

There was a long and uncertain pause before Dezel sighed, bowing his head. "Maybe… I _wanted_ you to hear me," he mumbled, running his fingers along the brim of his hat. "I'm a coward. I knew I'd never be able to stand my ground against you, anyway. Better you hear me tell someone else, instead of confronting me yourself." He shook his head, agitated. "Or at least, that's what I told myself."

Unable to come up with a satisfactory response on the spur of the moment, Rose nodded hesitantly to convey her understanding and knocked at the door: Ellen opened it almost immediately, looking relieved, and Dezel went first as usual to avoid getting shut out; he barely dodged Ellen's encouraging hand as she gestured for Rose to come in, misinterpreting her waiting for him to pass as hesitation.

It was a charming little sitting room, she admitted, almost grudgingly; she'd never much liked the houses of the rich, but it was undeniably cozy. Flames blazed merrily in a fireplace, throwing its soft glow over embroidered couches and armchairs (and Zaveid, who lay sprawled contentedly before it). A low coffee table, complete with a small but ornate vase of miniature white lilies, sat in the center of a large, intricately woven rug.

A silver platter of tea rested atop the table, bearing a blue-and-white porcelain teapot and one matching teacup—the other held by Sorey, who was watching Ellen's back carefully as he let Mikleo sneak in a sip or two, with Lailah complaining in the background that she hadn't had her turn yet. Rose smiled, seating herself somewhat gingerly across from Sorey.

"What are those called, Dezel?" she asked quietly, for he now knelt on the floor next to the bouquet of lilies, examining them carefully; his light breeze caressed them, and a light sweet scent wafted towards her. "They're beautiful," she continued, when he said nothing.

"These are… alterris lilies," responded Dezel, evidently stirring himself out of heavy thoughts, and Rose became sharply aware that Sorey was beaming between the two of them in obvious relief that they were on speaking terms again. Upon noticing Rose's raised eyebrow, he unsuccessfully disguised his obvious grin by taking a hasty sip from his empty teacup, much to Mikleo's amusement. "They like wet weather."

"At least _something_ does," replied Edna dryly, leaning on her parasol. "Glad you two are talking again, by the way," she added, turning her back on them both to hide her smile, and there were nods all around as the other seraphim agreed. "The last few days have been so boring without you two picking on each other. I expect a good show in days to come, to make up for it."

"She hasn't even had the heart to tease _Mikleo_ ," chimed in Lailah, clasping her hands before her, and Rose heard a chuckle from Zaveid's direction: so he wasn't asleep after all.

"If she even has a heart to begin with," pointed out Mikleo, crossing his arms sullenly, and Edna promptly rewarded him with a jab to the ribs as usual… but his yelp was muffled by another, firm knock at the door, which Ellen dutifully answered within the second.

There stood Maltran and Alisha, looking radiant as usual… if a little soaked from their outdoor sparring practice. Truth be told, Rose might have _killed_ to look so gorgeous after training in this downpour for who knew how long. Ellen stepped aside with a diffident curtsy, and they entered: Dezel rose in her peripheral vision, his fists clenched.

Rose's eyes landed first on Maltran, but were quickly drawn to Alisha as she took a few excited paces forward. "Sorey!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining, and Rose raised her eyebrows. "And Rose," she added, perhaps a little less enthusiastically, but cordially nonetheless. "I'm so glad to see you! How have—"

"Princess," Maltran reminded her, crossing her arms over her ample chest: Alisha jumped. Rose's eyes narrowed; she'd never understood how she managed to disguise herself as a normal human, even when they could _feel_ her malevolence. She'd sensed it coming on gradually, probably with her approach, but now that she was here, it was thick enough that Rose could almost taste it.

"I—I apologize for my unkempt appearance," mumbled Alisha hurriedly, flushing; Zaveid offered her a thankfully unheard assurance that it was _quite_ all right, earning him a round of exasperated glares. "I'll receive you properly as soon as I'm appropriately dressed. Please excuse me for a moment!" she added, already moving towards the stairwell, and charged out of sight.

"Shall I fetch you some tea, Lady Maltran?" asked Ellen timidly.

Maltran laughed. "No, thank you," she returned, tapping her fingers against her arm, and Ellen dipped her head and retreated; Rose frowned, squinting at her hand. Ignoring Maltran's staged pleasantries with Sorey, she focused on her fingers, on something sort of familiar, sparkling silver in imaginary blue firelight; something worn over her glove. A ring.

Rose's spine seemed to ache slightly where its twin had pressed into her skin; she got warily to her feet, crossing her arms. Since there was a lull in her conversation with Sorey, she figured it was as good a time as any to confront her: "Forgive me for asking, _Lady_ Maltran," began Rose with delicate emphasis, narrowing her eyes as she turned towards her, "but are you engaged?"

Smiling somewhat grimly, Maltran flipped her hair with exaggerated coyness. "Goodness, no," she returned, her one visible eye blinking. (How did she _fight_ like that, for gods' sakes? Was it the power of malevolence, or something?) "There's no time for courtship, with a war about to reignite. My heart belongs to Hyland." Rose could barely hold back a disgusted snarl; this was all a show for Ellen.

"Oh, that's interesting," responded Rose, tilting her head. "Because I could have sworn I know someone with a ring just like yours, and he even wore it the same way. But I suppose it's just a coincidence," she continued, watching Maltran's reaction carefully. That was a lie, and everyone knew it; this was too perfect to be a coincidence. Of course, Lunarre being engaged to Maltran was about as ridiculous a theory, but it was still a possibility worth noting. "Never mind."

At Rose's words, her false smile faltered slightly, but it happened so swiftly and subtly that she half thought she'd imagined the change in expression; she quickly turned back to Sorey instead. "Alisha speaks very highly of you, gentle Shepherd," Maltran told him, smirking. "I shouldn't be surprised if you rule Hyland alongside her someday. But be careful; with great power comes great influence. You never know what you could inspire people to do."

Sorey frowned in apparent confusion as Zaveid grinned and Mikleo glowered, but evidently Maltran did not require an answer; she simply opened the door, casting an almost scornful glance back at them. "I believe it's best if I take my leave," she told them, and her suspicious eye came to rest once more on Rose. "Make my apologies to the princess when she returns," she added. "I have other duties to attend to."

And then, thank gods, Maltran was gone. Rose glared after her, staring down the door until Dezel took his seat next to her, a respectful distance away. They sat in silence for far too long, and Rose's thoughts were as stormy as the weather. That seemed to be the norm nowadays, she thought ruefully; she had no idea what was going on, but she didn't like it.

She thought rather distractedly of hellions and their rings for what must have been twenty minutes, until she noticed as if waking from a dream that she still felt the malevolence. It didn't feel like the vaguer haze that hung over all the settlements she'd come across since their big mistake, but concentrated, like a specific hellion was still nearby. But Maltran had left long ago, so why…?

"Do you… suppose she's all right?" asked Sorey finally, glancing around the group nervously before fixing his gaze on the stairwell in a way that made Rose think he'd been watching for Alisha the whole time. And she was beginning to think he wasn't worrying over nothing, either; she had a really bad feeling about this—and they all knew what _that_ meant.

"Let's not be hasty," advised Lailah, braving a smile, though Rose noted her restless hands; she'd been shuffling her cards nonstop for a good five minutes. "She was training out in this weather for some time. It's entirely possible that she decided to take a bath before changing."

"What!" exclaimed Zaveid, sitting up a little too eagerly, and everyone made various noises of disapproval and disgust in anticipation of the nature of his next comment; he did not disappoint. "How could she do such a thing without me?" he demanded, and Rose rolled her eyes. Why did he insist on making light of potentially serious situations, when she could see he didn't mean a thing he said?

"Even so," murmured Sorey, hugging his arms to himself, "I don't like this. Ellen," he added more audibly, and the maid perked up immediately from her dormant state by the door, taking a few steps forward. "Could you please check in on Alisha real quick? Just to make sure she's all right?"

"Right away, milord," she responded, though she glanced at him somewhat curiously; she, at least, didn't think anything was amiss. As she hurried up the stairs, short skirt swishing, Zaveid might have tried to catch a peek… if Edna hadn't stepped deftly in front of him and opened her parasol to block the view.

Rose opened her mouth to praise Edna for her speedy intervention, but Lailah hushed her urgently, getting suddenly to her feet and directing her fearful eyes towards the stairwell: from upstairs came the sound of a knock, a door opening—and Ellen's drawn-out, terrified scream.

* * *

 _Oh man, the next chapter is gonna be a doozy. I did say this story would have M tendencies in the summary, right? *checks* Right. Anyway, that's gonna come into more prominence next time around, as you may have guessed. I'll give a more specific disclaimer at the beginning. Till then, you have been warned…_

 _ **Anon-san:**_ _Thanks! If you can hear their voices, I've done my duty. Also, Rose's line a couple chapters back did in fact reference Lloyd's from Symphonia. Glad somebody caught it! You win an internet cookie!_

 _ **Straya:**_ _*sigh of relief* It was hard to write these last couple chapters (given that I spent them putting myself in her shoes and her shoes are not comfortable), so I'm glad they paid off! Sorey's fortunately developed a slightly thicker skin by this point, but it was still hard for him—as it would be if your best friend started screaming at you about doing something you thought was right._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _All opinions aside, you're right about exactly one thing, and this chapter ought to give you a clue as to which one._

 _ **Draconic:**_ _Yeah, I've never been especially good at writing fights. It's a bit of a self-reinforcing cycle, though; since I know I can't quite do battles justice, I don't usually include very many in my stories, which means I don't get all that much practice. As you say, my forte lies elsewhere; emotion interests me more than action combat-wise, so that's what I usually try to focus on instead. I promise I'm workin' on it, but I hope it doesn't detract too much in the meantime!_


	13. Chapter 12: Damsel in Distress

_This specific chapter ought to be closer to M for blood and vaguely suggestive and generally dark themes. But unfortunately, I can't rate individual chapters, so we'll have to be content with a warning instead…_

* * *

Rose had seen a _lot_ of unpleasant situations in her twenty-ish years. This wasn't one of them. Nonetheless she hoped, in the part of her mind not consumed with shock, that she would never see it again.

Ellen had backed away as they approached, her eyes wide, before fleeing somewhat unsteadily—frantically muttering something about fetching help. Rose might have commended the maid for her usefulness if she wasn't so certain the soldiers would be of no help in this scenario. Now, there was a time limit, because no ordinary human could possibly understand.

From the looks of things, Lailah's hunch about a bath had proven correct, but Alisha had never had a chance to dress herself… or even dry herself. She lay spread-eagled on her bed, each of her extremities secured with rope to one of her bedposts; she was so tightly gagged that Rose could barely hear her muffled whimpers, and she clearly wasn't strong enough to struggle. But Rose's eyes were on Lunarre, crouching over her with a knife.

…Fully clothed, thank gods, but what was he _doing_? Carving something into her flesh, realized Rose almost immediately, and shuddered in revulsion. All those cuts weren't deep enough to kill her; just enough to make her bleed. The design was lost beneath a smear of living red, extending diagonally upwards from the outside of her right thigh. Now, he was working on the skin over her heart, and even as they watched in speechless shock, he bent down to suck up some of the excess blood—

And that was the universal breaking point. Their weapons had been drawn from the beginning, but only now could they stir themselves into their battle stances: " _Get off her_!" yelled Rose and Sorey angrily at the same time, rushing forward… but the unconcerned Lunarre simply turned his head to face them, holding the point of his knife over Alisha's heart in preparation to drive it in: they froze at her sudden, frightened intake of breath.

She gazed around at them all with glazed and pleading eyes, even focusing on the seraphim; Rose wondered fleetingly if the trauma had unlocked her resonance. "You're late," remarked Lunarre casually, continuing his careful detailing without so much as a glance at any of them. "The princess here was supposed to be dessert, but it's so difficult to resist filling up before dinner."

"You bastard!" exclaimed Sorey, shifting the grip of his sword restlessly in his hand, but did not move for fear he would cause Alisha's death. But Rose knew better; Maltran had wanted her alive, and she was plainly in league with him. He _couldn't_ kill her; taking a deep breath, she moved her foot forward tentatively, meeting his eyes challengingly.

Lunarre turned his head once more to look her up and down through narrowed eyes, then added the finishing touch with a flourish. "Clever," he told Rose, licking Alisha's blood off his blade as she approached furiously, and threw his knife to stick in the floor at her feet. "That's right. I didn't come here to kill her… or to fight you."

"That's too bad, because I'm really starting to look forward to killing _you_ ," snarled Rose, lunging forward to slash at him: he leapt backwards, towards the outside wall. Lailah, Mikleo, and Edna all vanished into Sorey to dodge Zaveid's pendulums, which caught him by an arm and leg as he made for the window; Dezel did the same a moment later, securing all his limbs in a satisfying echo of what he had done to Alisha—only he was stretched against the wall instead.

Even as this brief conflict was resolved, if indeed it could be called a _conflict_ when Lunarre made no noticeable effort to resist, Sorey rushed forward to pluck up the knife still buried in the floorboards and slit Alisha's bonds. The seraphim emerged in a hurry to help him; Mikleo washed out her wounds, Edna dried them with strips of silken sheet, and Lailah murmured urgent healing artes.

But all this happened in Rose's peripheral vision; she hadn't stopped focusing on Lunarre's infuriating smirk since he had been subdued. Why wasn't he struggling? Why was he _smiling_? There could be no triumph in a victory this easy; she marched over, brandishing her knives, and tried to convince herself just to let him sleep like the honorable assassin she was supposed to be—not to torture him, and not to let him torture her—

"Why so angry, boss?" asked Lunarre, still smirking slyly, and turned his wrists in something of a shrug, drawing her attention to their motion: she narrowed her eyes, wondering what had happened to his ring. "Are you _jealous_?" he grinned, nodding towards Alisha. "Don't be. If I could have my way, you'd be in her place. But orders are orders," he sighed, shaking his head slowly, "and the effect is the same anyway. So there she is, and here you are, safe and sound and… savage."

He gave a harsh laugh, and Rose grit her teeth, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. His objective to corrupt her hadn't changed, she reminded herself; he was only trying different tactics: first, attacking her; then, provoking her; and now, taunting her. He meant to drag her down to his level, and she must fight his influence. This, then, was the _real_ battle. A battle of wills.

Rose might have ended it then and there if Dezel hadn't spoken first. "Is your master afraid to face us herself?" he growled, tightening his cords; Lunarre clenched his teeth to suppress a whimper as Zaveid too pulled harder to keep him upright. "You've failed three times now. If it were me, I'd have killed you for it."

But Lunarre only cackled, shaking his head. "Have you ever considered," he began, "that I don't _know_ why she tells me what to do? I'm just a slave. As I have always been," he added, with an ugly look at Rose—whose attention had been drawn momentarily to Lailah, gently escorting Alisha into the adjacent bathroom: the livid Sorey and his other companions kept their distance, understanding that this was Rose's job, but their weapons remained at the ready.

Relieved despite herself, Rose turned back to Lunarre, turning her knives idly in her hands. There were answers she had to get, but she shouldn't use her knives to get them if she wanted to be the better man. (Woman, she supposed.) "If you consider yourself a slave, then why do you follow her so faithfully?" asked Rose, narrowing her eyes. "When you stayed with me, you were my _family_ , so I made sure you knew exactly why you were risking your life."

As she met his eyes with a challenge, taking another couple steps towards him, Zaveid and Dezel forced him to his knees—probably to mitigate the fact that she couldn't really threaten him when he stood easily a foot taller than her. "Are you really willing to die for a cause you don't even know?" she asked, her voice soft and deadly serious.

Lunarre smiled up at her, then spat at her feet suddenly: it was diluted red with blood that was not his own, she noted disgustedly. "I have no intention of dying," he snarled, struggling for the first time against his bonds; but Dezel and Zaveid held him steady. "You played right into _his_ bloodstained hands without so much as questioning why, so he's made you stronger in return," he growled, grimacing, and his golden eyes fairly burned with hatred. "My seraph will reward me too. You'll see!"

"But why would a seraph command a hellion?" demanded Rose; Lunarre only stilled and shook his head with an unnerving smile, his eyes never leaving hers.

It was Zaveid, to her surprise, who responded. "There _are_ some seraphim who serve the Lord of Calamity," he murmured, his eyes fixed attentively on Lunarre's face. "They may be few and far between, but I'd argue that they're still his most dangerous supporters. You can purify just about any hellion, with a couple exceptions—but you can't purify a seraph."

Rose narrowed her eyes as Lunarre giggled. "Surely you don't think I'm a part of a hierarchy?" he snorted derisively. "I don't take orders from anything that can't destroy me, and there are only a few things in this world that _can_." He half-closed his eyes, vertical pupils dilating slightly. "Like an oath-bound seraph. Such intoxicating power, all at her fingertips!" He shivered in apparent ecstasy, and Rose scowled.

"I hope your girlfriend is here to watch you die," she hissed, but she didn't catch his smirk until a split second before she started moving. As she jabbed her knife upwards to thrust it deep into his chest, he leaned back with surprising strength so that the blade only grazed his skin. Even as he did so, his hands blazed with blue fire, sending two spheres of flames hurtling towards both Dezel and Zaveid, who still crouched off to the side.

As unbalanced as they were by the onslaught, they still did not withdraw their pendulums, and Rose's eyes widened. But before she or any of the others could rush to their aid, Lunarre grinned and flung himself out the window, propelling himself backwards with a sudden explosion—and his captors were forced to release him as the wall and windowpanes both shattered.

The world seemed to move in slow motion: Sorey's seraphim vanished into him to avoid the blast, and Mikleo surrounded him with his protective bubble; but Rose was too far away to feel the effects. She could only squeeze her eyes shut, shield her face, and pray the shrapnel didn't kill her. Something heavy tackled her to the floor, knocking the wind out of her… but that was better by far than being dead.

And then there was sudden silence, but for the eternal rain.

Rose's eyes finally fluttered open to take in Dezel's body; he arched over her on his hands and knees. Frowning slightly, she moved her gaze up to his face: his hat was missing, and his shaggy hair hung down so that she could see his blind eyes blink gently down at her. As she watched, he smiled in relief, moving his hand cautiously to her stomach and brushing his fingers against her diaphragm just as he had done once before (keep-away had been a practice run for this, she thought dimly): she breathed again, struggling to sit up, and Dezel moved aside to support her.

"I'm fine," she coughed, gazing up at Sorey as he knelt beside her: the seraphim left him once more, standing uncertainly in a circle, and Zaveid stooped to hand Dezel his hat. "Don't worry about me," added Rose impatiently, crossing her arms, when Sorey continued to look concerned. "Your other Squire's a little worse for wear at the momen…"

Rose trailed off as the door opened slightly, and Lailah peered anxiously out from around it; muffled sobbing could be heard from within the adjacent room, and Rose winced at the sound. That poor girl hadn't asked to get involved with any of this, but there she was, scarred anyway. Probably literally. "Is he gone?" asked Lailah in a hushed voice, glancing around the group.

"He escaped," growled Dezel, gesturing agitatedly to what used to be the wall. " _Again_." Though his tone was not quite accusatory, Rose couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt at his emphasis; she should have killed him long ago. But as she knew, dwelling on the _should have_ s never worked out too well in her favor.

Lailah sighed. "I suspected as much," she murmured sadly, shaking her head, but then glanced back up again. "Rose, would you and Edna mind bringing in a change of clothes for Alisha?" she asked, and both nodded. As Edna approached the wardrobe at an obnoxiously leisurely pace—the armoire had thankfully remained largely intact despite the explosion, if a little chipped or scraped in places—Sorey helped Rose to her feet.

"What can we do?" he asked, gesturing vaguely towards himself and the male members of the party: Lailah pursed her lips thoughtfully, frowning faintly, but Rose gestured for her to shoo. Alisha needed her attention more; she could handle a human matter such as this.

"Talk to the guards about finding and apprehending Lunarre," she told Sorey firmly, glancing around at Mikleo and Zaveid. "It's not likely that they'll be able to track him down, and they might not believe you in the first place, but it's worth a shot… and I think Alisha would feel safer." Probably. As long as they didn't pry, anyway, and she couldn't imagine they would.

Sorey gave a single resolute nod and gestured to his male comrades, who vanished into him immediately; but as he rested a hand on the doorknob, Edna held up a hand for them to wait. "Here," she remarked, flinging her chosen garments unceremoniously across the room to land in her lap. "I'm going with Sorey. Just… make sure she knows everyone is here for her, because I can't tell if she sees us or not."

Rolling her eyes as Edna disappeared and Sorey took his leave (dragging the protesting Dezel after him), Rose sighed and finally approached the door somewhat warily. Knocking lightly and hearing Lailah's faint encouragement to come in, Rose entered cautiously, not sure what to expect, and kept her eyes on the floor at first before raising them to find the princess.

Alisha sat in the empty bathtub, hugging her knees to her chest and rocking slightly back and forth. She looked weak, pale, and clammy from blood loss and panic, and her eyes were wide and unfocused, but she was at least alive and human. Such was her positioning that Rose couldn't see anything of her wounds, but Lailah sat on the edge of the tub, her eyes downcast: she, at least, would know. "Lailah," began Rose quietly, and she looked up unwillingly. "What did he… do?"

"He—he came _so_ close to corrupting her," responded Lailah, her eyes welling up with delayed tears of fright. "The malevolence was already taking its toll, almost like a poison. Thankfully, we arrived soon enough that I was still able to purge it with the flames of purification. But the scars they left…" She trailed off, not meeting Rose's searching gaze, and said no more.

But Alisha glanced up at her with glazed eyes, and relaxed slowly, straightening out her legs and leaning back so Rose could see the damage. Her eyes widened in astonished horror: every cut Lunarre had inflicted was blackened as if badly burned, so that her front was crisscrossed with dark and intricate lines, and she could finally see the design he had been so carefully carving.

The details were beautiful, in a terrible sort of way; he'd always had a natural talent for sketches, she thought bitterly, examining the picture he had painted so gruesomely. Stems, thorns, leaves, blossoms, and curlicues, strewn from thigh to heart, portrayed Rose's name in its literal form… forever embossed on Alisha's skin, like an ornate tattoo.

 _If I could have my way, you'd be in her place_ , Rose remembered suddenly, and her blood ran cold as she realized the unwritten message—the true purpose of Lunarre's visit tonight, for which he had so pointedly spilled innocent blood: _this is all your fault_ , she thought, and shuddered to the core.

* * *

 _What a way to start the new year, amirite? Poor Alisha._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Maybe I should file this under "Mystery"? You certainly seem to have enough questions, haha! And I wish my parents agreed with your update-related praise, but as it is, they're actually kind of mad at me for spending so much time writing…_


	14. Chapter 13: Thorns

"I'm so sorry," gasped Rose, unable to tear her eyes away from Alisha's scars; but even as she spoke, the princess stood up unsteadily, almost startling her: Lailah supported her as she stepped out of the tub to stand shakily before her.

Rose wasn't accustomed to helping people get dressed, but she tried her damnedest, because Alisha deserved nothing less after an evening like this. After the blouse was over her head, she swallowed convulsively: "Wh-where's… Ellen?" she managed tremulously, unable to meet Rose's eyes.

"I'll look for her if you want," volunteered Rose softly, glancing over at Lailah; both she nodded in understanding, moving to help the princess with her leggings. Alisha searched Rose's eyes for a long time as if trying to discern an ulterior motive, but eventually bowed her head. More in defeat than agreement, thought Rose sadly, but permission was permission.

She slipped out of the bathroom and glanced around at the remains of Alisha's bedroom, each crumbling brick weighing down her heart so that its every pulse was painful. But there was no time to waste on reflection; gathering speed, Rose opened the door, charged down the hall, and was just about to tear down the stairs when Sorey—doing the same in reverse—crashed headlong into her.

They gripped one another's shoulders to steady one another on the landing, the accompanying seraphim pausing on the stairs. All of them were breathing hard, and Sorey's eyes in particular were wider even than usual. "What gives?" asked Rose urgently, when he said nothing, but he was too out of breath to speak.

"All the guards were slaughtered," answered Mikleo in his stead, running his hands restlessly along the railing. "Some with blades, but several were also badly burned. Lunarre's work, I'd imagine." Though his words seemed matter-of-fact, his voice cracked under the strain of bearing so much bad news, and his eyes were fixed on the ground.

"And… Ellen?" asked Rose apprehensively, fearing the worst; sure enough, Sorey only shook his head slowly, and her breath caught. None of these people had anything to do with this, and involving a civilian was the last straw. Next time, she didn't care _what_ Lunarre had to say; she was going to kill him on sight. If she had any questions for him, she'd ask his corpse.

Zaveid heaved a sigh. "She was still conscious in the end," he explained somberly. "But we couldn't save her. Someone had run her through."

"She said Malty's name," chimed in Edna, opening her umbrella. "And I think we all know what that means." So they _were_ working together, thought Rose, and the rings proved it; but then, why wasn't Lunarre wearing his? Or, she realized suddenly, maybe there was just one, and they'd met up and traded it off. But then, what such valuable purpose could it serve…?

Sorey let out a long breath. "I just don't get why they would work together like this," he confessed as if reading her thoughts, leaning against the railing and crossing his arms as he regarded the carpet in the hallway. But before Rose could respond, Dezel let out a short breath and readjusted his hat.

"They're _hellions_ ," he pointed out impatiently, as finally as though that was the definitive answer, and further conjecture would be utterly pointless: end of discussion. Rose glanced at him with some annoyance; he should know that wasn't going to cut it. At this point, if there was one thing they were all getting really good at, it was speculation.

"Yeah," returned Edna, narrowing her eyes and twirling her parasol (Mikleo scooted almost imperceptibly away from her to avoid getting thwacked), "except Loony said he's not part of a hierarchy. Even if he's following someone's orders, I don't think _teamwork_ is in his vocabulary either."

"And that's exactly what's so weird about this," agreed Rose, nodding in her direction. "From what I can tell, they have completely different motivations, so what would they stand to gain by collaborating?"

A long silence greeted her words before Dezel finally sighed, shifting in place. "Lunarre is specifically targeting you," he told her. "Maybe he enlisted Maltran's help to break in here and screw with Alisha"—Rose winced at his choice of verb—"because he thought that would corrupt Sorey, and you're his Squire, so…" He trailed off uncertainly. "What?" he growled defensively, sensing dubious expressions all around. "None of _you_ have any ideas."

"That seems like a shot in the dark on his part," responded Zaveid, crossing his arms and leaning against the banister. "Corrupting someone to corrupt someone else to corrupt someone else… lots of work to put into a plan that might not pay off."

Rose shook her head hesitantly, her mind elsewhere. "No," she responded, black thorns scraping through her mind. "Sorey wasn't a part of it. Just the way he did it was enough to—" She swallowed, closing her eyes briefly. "Roses," she said finally, and her own plural name had never been so difficult to pronounce. "He was carving… roses."

There was a collective gasp, and Rose bowed her head uncomfortably as she her friends' eyes lingered on her face; thankfully, Zaveid was sensitive enough to change the subject. "Don't forget that Lady Maltran was in on this, too," he added quietly. "So there's still a missing motivation involved. If I had to guess, I'd say she's trying to corrupt our pure and precious princess."

Mikleo frowned. "That doesn't seem likely," he protested. "Maltran said she didn't have a use for Alisha anymore. She was going to leave her alone."

"Plans change," countered Zaveid. "Come on, think about it," he added, somewhat exasperatedly. "If you were going to corrupt someone, this is about the best way you could do it. Get another hellion to traumatize them, become a pillar of support through sympathy, and use that connection to make 'em malevolent," he added, narrowing his eyes in disgust. "And, if it doesn't work the first time, maybe even rinse and repeat. It might be enough to break her if we don't intervene."

Sorey shook his head, his eyes troubled. Nonetheless his voice was firm as he responded, "I have faith in Alisha," and Mikleo nodded—albeit somewhat hesitantly. Zaveid made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, but offered no verbal rebuttal.

"Well, either way, we have to tell her," remarked Edna in her usual down-to-earth fashion, and Dezel grunted his agreement. "It would be dangerous at this point to leave her in the dark."

"And how do you think she'll take the news after a day like this one?" returned Sorey, and Rose pursed her lips; he had a point. The princess had lost enough already. "If she's okay with it, we should just take her with us, as planned. With us, she'll be safe from Maltran's influence, and we'll also be able to protect her from Lunarre."

"That's a good first step," conceded Zaveid warily, "but even if she agrees to come with us, chances are good that we'll meet her instructor on the battlefield someday, so she'll need to be prepared for that." Dezel nodded; this must be serious business if the two wind seraphim were in agreement, thought Rose wryly.

"She might not believe until she sees," countered Sorey, crossing his arms, and Rose remembered abruptly that she was supposed to be finding Ellen. An unpleasant chill settled in the pit of her stomach as she wondered what she could tell Alisha, and she swallowed, glancing back down the hallway.

"I'll, um, I'll be right back," said Rose lamely, excusing herself before anyone could react. She could hear Dezel following behind her, but didn't turn to confirm her suspicion; she only moved through two doors and stood before the gaunt princess (supported by an especially anxious Lailah), noting that her markings were thankfully hidden under the outfit Edna had chosen.

Alisha glanced up briefly, her eyes red and undoubtedly sore, before bowing her head again. "She's… p-passed, hasn't she?" asked Alisha hoarsely, her voice barely above a whisper, and Rose nodded hesitantly. In response, the princess gave another heart-wrenching sob, raising her hands to her face and sniffling pitifully.

"I'm sorry," responded Rose softly, at a loss for what else to do. She couldn't tell Alisha about Maltran's involvement, after all; more likely, she'd assume her maid's death was Lunarre's doing. And by extension her own, she thought, remembering the roses burned into her skin and closing her eyes briefly in remorse.

"Th-thank you for—your c-concern," stammered Alisha, her hands curled into trembling fists; unless Rose was much mistaken, her voice was distinctly cold under all that congestion. "But if—if it's not too m-much to ask… I'd l-like to be alone f-for a little while."

Rose shook her head. "That might actually be too much to ask," she told her, crossing her arms; Alisha looked up, scowling fiercely, and opened her mouth as if to argue. "If you want _me_ to go, I get it," she added, raising her voice slightly to deter the princess from retorting. "I'll go." She turned around and rested her hand on the doorknob, looking briefly over her shoulder. "But Sorey is here too, and you shouldn't be on your own right now."

As Rose spoke, she glanced over at Lailah; Alisha traced her line of sight, frowning as she gazed back at her in wary confusion. So she still couldn't see them, even after all that: Lailah nodded hesitantly as if confirming her thoughts, and followed Rose out the door to find and consult with the others. Upon shutting it behind her, she discovered with some surprise that they had all followed her to the ruins of Alisha's bedroom.

Sorey stood guard at the door, while Zaveid and Dezel both kept watch at the fallen wall. Edna, meanwhile, dozed on Mikleo's back with her arms draped around his neck in a loose chokehold; evidently, she had gotten tired of standing and had coerced him into carrying her, rather than disappearing into Sorey. "How's Alisha?" asked Sorey, immediately straightening up from his position leaning against the wall as Rose emerged.

"See for yourself," she replied, crossing her arms and standing aside along with Lailah and nodding towards the door. "She's decent," she assured him, raising her eyebrows, when Sorey wavered awkwardly in place. "And believe me, she needs you more than she needs me."

Sorey inclined his head and approached the door: Zaveid and Dezel exchanged a glance before the former vanished into his vessel. Mikleo followed suit (taking Edna with him), but Rose rested a hand on Lailah's shoulder before she could join them; something had been bothering her in the back of her mind ever since she'd considered such an unlikely alliance. A lady knight and a crazy fox? There was more to this than met the eye.

"What kind of hellion is Maltran?" asked Rose; if anyone would know, it was Lailah. "She looks totally human, and that malevolence… I think it was Lunarre's, not hers. The only reason we even know she's a hellion in the first place is because she _let_ us know." She gave a sudden, shallow sigh. "How can she do that?"

"It doesn't make sense," agreed Lailah uncertainly, shifting in place. "She's concealing her true nature somehow. But deception on that level isn't an ability native to hellions," she added, frowning. "Even the most powerful among them shouldn't be able to hide their malevolence from those of us who can sense it."

Rose narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, on the verge of a realization. A hellion with no malevolence… "The ring," she muttered, rubbing her forehead as she recalled the Dumnonia incident in vivid detail. "Of _course_." Somehow or other, that ring had the ability to suppress malevolence. And if it was in the hands of hellions—

"Rose?" asked Lailah, apprehensive curiosity glimmering in her sea-green eyes. "Do you know something?" she added urgently.

After a brief hesitation, Rose only shook her head. "I'll tell you all later," she decided, braving a small smile. It was too complicated to disentangle everything now, and she'd rather not have to repeat herself anyway; if she could talk to everyone at once, that would be preferable.

"Go on, help Sorey," Rose prompted, rolling her eyes as Lailah frowned, and pushed her gently towards the door: she nodded once, somewhat reluctantly, and vanished. Letting out a long breath, Rose strode forward to take up Sorey's former position guarding the door. With Dezel's wind-reading on her side, it probably wasn't _necessary_ , but she really needed something to do with herself if she wanted to keep her mind off the markings.

"I thought you hated keeping secrets," remarked Dezel dryly, standing amid the rubble that used to be the wall, and Rose rolled her eyes and pointedly held her tongue. After a wordless pause, he added, "I _also_ thought you had started speaking to me again," and Rose smiled faintly despite herself. Dezel seemed satisfied with this response, echoing the gesture, and they lapsed into a more comfortable silence.

A very long silence. Rose was grateful to be in the company of a wind seraph, given that she was certain she'd freeze without him there to redirect the gusts of rain billowing towards the manor. It might have been fifteen minutes before Rose started wondering exactly how long Sorey would stay with Alisha, but as she opened her mouth to ask whether Dezel thought it was safe to interrupt them, he tensed.

"There are two guards headed this way," he told her urgently, turning towards the door. "You should hide, or they'll suspect you." But Rose shook her head; they'd suspect her all the more if they found her. And if there were only two guards, they were probably just supposed to be the next shift to defend the gate. She could take them if things turned nasty.

…But maybe she'd better check in with the princess first; Rose knocked on the bathroom door softly. "A couple guards are coming," she announced, somewhat uncertainly; though she heard Sorey murmur something to Alisha, and she heard her mumble a reply, she couldn't hear any hints about what she should do.

"Alisha says you can come in," said Sorey softly, though there was a hesitation in his voice; Rose opened the door cautiously to find him sitting on the counter, holding the princess on his lap in a loose and protective embrace. Raising her eyebrows at the unexpected tenderness of the scene, Rose hesitantly pushed herself up to sit next to them, a respectful distance away—keeping her eyes on Alisha's bedroom, as Dezel moved to stand by the door in preparation for the guards' entrance.

They didn't have to wait long. The two soldiers burst in with spears at the ready, and Rose automatically moved her hands to her knives before forcing herself to relax; it wouldn't help her case if she bared her blades. Alisha stirred next to her, and Sorey helped her slide off the counter, supporting her by the shoulders as she stood up shakily to face her agitated men.

"Stand down," she told them, and her voice was far steadier than the last time Rose had heard it: she smiled slightly out of sheer relief that Sorey had been able to soothe her. "These people protected me. Please bring reinforcements from the palace." The princess spoke haltingly, but clearly; such was the earnestness of her expression that though the guards hesitated, exchanging a wary glance, they offered no protests.

As they departed hastily, Alisha gave a long sigh, brushing Sorey's hand off her shoulder reluctantly. "I must explain the situation to the others when they arrive," she told him, "and they'll be more likely to listen if I speak with them alone. Would both of you please wait in… E-Ellen's room?" She swallowed painfully, and Rose winced.

Sorey nodded hesitantly, and Alisha half-smiled wearily in response. "I'm sorry I don't have a guest room," she told him, her eyes downcast. "I was never allowed to have visitors. But you can stay for as—for as long as you w-want."

Raising his hand again, Sorey massaged Alisha's shoulder; she took a deep, shuddering breath, leaning briefly against him in affectionate exhaustion. "Please make yourselves comfortable," she managed; Rose thought privately that the concept of comfort at a time like this was almost laughable. "It's the next door over, across the hall," she added, gesturing vaguely.

"Is there anything else I can do?" asked Sorey gently, his eyes wide and sweet.

Alisha shook her head hesitantly. "Not at the moment," she replied, sounding less than certain. "But I'm more grateful for your compassion than I can say." She addressed Sorey alone this time, focusing on his face with solemn sincerity, and Rose attempted with some difficulty to be understanding. It was reasonable that she wasn't disposed to like Rose, after everything Lunarre had put her through on her account… but she hadn't ever meant for that to happen, and she _had_ tried to help.

Sorey distracted her by shaking his head as if to say it was nothing; Rose shifted in place uncomfortably, recognizing that she played no part in this conversation. "I'll scope out our room," she offered, turning back towards the door. "You stay with her until the guards arrive. And… make sure not to leave her unprotected, okay?" she added pointedly, glancing over her shoulder.

Her Shepherd nodded in covert understanding, and Rose took her leave without further ado. Despite their invisibility, Alisha could probably guess about the seraphim, but she probably still didn't want to hear such a definitive confirmation that there were so many more witnesses to her suffering. Not yet, anyway. (At least, that was how Rose would want to be treated in her situation.)

Dezel turned his head over his shoulder as she emerged, restless doubts taking shape in her mind. "I heard," he told her, before she could say anything. "The maid's room is safe, don't worry. I'll join you as soon as Zaveid gets his ass over here to help keep an eye on… this." He waved his hand exasperatedly towards the grounds. "Till then, I'd better stand guard."

Rose only gave a single nod and wan smile, and headed down the hall with heavy heart. She knew this situation was not directly her fault, she told herself, opening the door to the late maid's room—but as she fell back wearily on Ellen's bed, waiting for Sorey, she still couldn't help but think of how much blood had been spilled in her name.

* * *

 _Quicker update even than usual because this chapter and the last were supposed to be just one, but I decided there was too much going on. So_ _here's another shorter chapter of resolution and regrouping.  
_

 _ **Straya:**_ _You don't have to review every chapter! It's enough that you read them, and even that is your choice. Anyway, I'm not totally sure whether Dezel was being honest when he told Rose about his priorities; I think he's in denial even to himself. I know for a fact that he spoke first because it was easier for him to say she should hate him than to hear the words from Rose. It was a method of bracing himself, like if he breaks his own heart she can't do it for him._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _You can ask as many questions as you want; I just think you're overcomplicating matters, that's all. Don't discount the pieces of the equation just because I said your conclusion was wrong._

 _ **PhoenixTheCat:**_ _Haha, my stepmother was actually the one who got me into fanfiction to begin with, so the only issue they really have with it is that I haven't been doing anything else with my time. (Which is a nice problem to have, really.) As for Lunarre's hematophagy, I don't think there are really any tangible benefits; I think he just likes the taste, and the symbolism of drinking a Squire's lifeblood. Especially Rose's. And speaking of symbolism, thanks for the compliments!_


	15. Chapter 14: The Princess and the Squire

_Another M warning for the first three paragraphs or so…_

* * *

That night was filled with roses and moonlight, blood and shadows. Rose lay sprawled on icy stone, silver rain falling softly on bare skin—hers… and Lunarre's above her, though he at least was only half naked. But still she let him trail bloody kisses up and down her body, painting petals with parted lips and slicing thorns with sharpened fangs. Oh, he was _good_ , all fingers and tongue; how she despised him!

Rose's breathing grew heavier, a cold weight settling into her core with every pulse of profane pleasure. She was not tied down; she was free to leave him, to hurt him, to kill him. And yet she craved more than anything the end, even knowing the gift he brought was one of malevolence. _If only you had come with me_ , hissed Lunarre, _if only you had come for me_ —Rose grit her teeth to spite him, holding back the tide— _the only blood we spilled would be your own!_

Falling, she sat up flushed and gasping, and winced as she rubbed the side of her neck where he had bitten her. Gods, she hated this kind of dream, as much inspired by reality as imagination: with any luck, she hadn't bled on the sheets. At least Dezel wasn't around to make it even more awkward this time, reflected Rose, taking a deep breath to calm herself; he was probably still keeping an eye on Alisha, along with the other seraphim.

Getting up with a groan and grimace, she stretched, exhausted before her day even began. Dealing effectively with a vision as vicious and vivid as that was no mean feat; Rose was fighting a losing battle already, without adding a dream like _that_ to the mix. In order to get any rest last night, she'd had to repeat to herself that this was not her fault, until she finally succumbed to fatigue—and she'd still fallen asleep thinking of burnt black thorns.

Shaking her head, Rose started her morning routine somewhat more slowly than usual. There was no way to prepare for a day like today after a night like last night, according to her infallible gut; but she may as well try, because they had a _lot_ of work to do.

* * *

As she reached the landing, Rose realized with some astonishment that she was the last one up—and probably the one worst for wear, too. Which, incidentally, did _not_ help her mindset; if anyone had the right to look haggard, it was the princess. Rose wasn't the one who had suffered most, though she was beginning to think despite herself that she should have.

Yet there sat Alisha in the parlor, sipping tea with Sorey—quite composed, considering the circumstances. For the sake of obscuring her scars, she wore an outfit similar to Edna's pick last night: leggings and a tunic. And, even after everything she had endured, she still managed to look stunning; how could Alisha look so much lovelier in _Rose's_ go-to style, especially after last evening…?

Never mind; that wasn't important right now, and it certainly wasn't fair—the important thing was that the princess was all right. Rose descended the stairs somewhat tentatively, loath to interrupt their little tea party; she was probably the last person Alisha wanted to see right now, anyway. But the weight on her heart lifted slightly as she realized that Dezel was there to support her.

Sorey glanced up from his spot on the sofa and smiled at her, setting his cup down in its saucer. "Morning, Rose," he greeted her warmly, and the seraphim emerged at his words, dispersing throughout the room. Alisha didn't so much as glance at any of them; apparently, she had not yet agreed to be Sorey's Squire, and Rose quirked an eyebrow. That _had_ been their objective, right?

"Almost afternoon," corrected Dezel, pausing in his pacing by the window; glancing at the mantelpiece clock, Rose narrowly resisted the urge to laugh. It was only nine o'clock—a few hours later than she usually got up, but she'd also fallen asleep a few hours later than usual. As far as she was concerned, nine should be fine.

"I'm glad you're here," remarked Alisha coolly, gesturing to the teapot on the table, but Rose couldn't help but think that meant she was glad she was finally awake. More to oblige the princess than because she wanted any, she poured herself some tea—wishing wholeheartedly that it was coffee instead.

There was a brief and awkward silence before Sorey finally spoke. "We wanted to wait until you were here before we talk about what happens next," he explained. "Since you're my Squire. So, now that you're awake…" He trailed off, glancing somewhat doubtfully at Alisha.

Rose nodded once in understanding, and the princess gave a light and lingering sigh. "First, I wanted to thank you both again for your help," she told them, glancing up from her tea, but met neither Sorey's eyes nor Rose's; she preferred instead to return her gaze to her cup. "I can never repay you for the kindness you've shown, but if there's anything I can do to help you on your journey, please don't hesitate to ask."

Sorey rested a hand on her shoulder as if to say there was no need, but Rose frowned; had their earlier plan gone out the window with Lunarre? "I can think of something," she remarked, setting down her tea, and Alisha tilted her head slightly in suspicious confusion; Sorey shook his head, his eyes widening, and his seraphim stirred uncertainly; but it was too late: "You can come with us."

"I'm… really not sure that's for the best," stammered Alisha, turning whiter still, and Rose struggled to suppress her exasperation. The world was ending, and she wanted to stay here in the capital? Here, in a half-destroyed manor, where an entire squadron of soldiers hadn't been able to keep one hellion at bay?

"The nations aren't actively fighting for the time being," pointed out Rose, as patiently as possible. "There are plenty of other people who can handle diplomacy in Hyland, but you're the _only_ other potential Squire we've met. Even if you don't want to believe it, we need you," she insisted, "and if you want to repay us, this is the best way you could do it."

Alisha shook her head, her eyes brimful of panic. "But last time," she faltered, "Sorey was losing his sight. I couldn't possibly… I mean…" As she struggled to find words, Rose narrowed her eyes, glancing over at Sorey. She hadn't heard anything about this; what was she talking about? But at a nod from Lailah, he only took the princess's hand in both of his, closing his eyes.

"There shouldn't be any such issues this time," Lailah told her, and Alisha jumped in alarm at hearing another voice before forcing herself to relax. "Sorey has grown far stronger as a Shepherd, and he now has an additional Sub Lord and another Squire to support him. Furthermore," she added, more hesitantly, "I believe your resonance may have been enhanced due to the events of last night."

Alisha nodded haltingly. "Y-yes," she responded slowly. "I thought I saw you at first, but… then I couldn't anymore, and… I assumed you were still there, but I didn't…" She shook her head, an embarrassed blush rising to her pale cheeks. "Forgive me," she mumbled, hanging her head.

Rose half expected Edna to tell her to do the normincarena as penance (which story Mikleo had recounted for her some time ago by way of demonstrating how evil she was), but she was oddly silent—sensitive, for once, to the delicacy of the situation. "It's quite all right," Lailah assured Alisha gently. "I understand."

Gathering her thoughts, the princess nodded somewhat distractedly, and there was a long pause: Rose sipped somewhat impatiently at her tea. "I'm sorry," sighed Alisha eventually, "but my duty is to my country. As its princess, and a knight, there is too much I must do." She shook her head sadly, but Rose scowled. "I… I can't."

"You won't _have_ a country anymore if you don't come with us," returned Rose, setting down her teacup with a clatter, and Alisha's eyes widened; a frown flickered across Sorey's face, but did not open his eyes. Mikleo stared at her in disapproval, and even Edna seemed taken aback; but Zaveid met her eyes, nodded in solemn agreement, and stepped forward.

"With all due respect, princess," he added, rather more seriously than usual, "you're no longer safe in your own city. I think you realize that, after last evening," he continued, and Alisha winced. "If you come with us, we'll be able to protect you."

"If you come with us, you'll be able to protect _yourself_ ," muttered Rose, remembering all too clearly that the Shepherd, his Squire, and five seraphim had all failed to kill Lunarre for what he'd done to the princess. If Alisha wanted something done right, she may well have to do it on her own.

Only when she noticed her comrades' reproachful glares did Rose realize how such a comment might be misconstrued—but before she could say anything, Dezel glanced over his shoulder from the window. "Rose is right," he put in. "If Alisha becomes a Squire, there won't be any need for us to bail her out next time."

"N-next time?" asked Alisha, somewhat fearfully, and Sorey (still closed-eyed) squeezed her hand more tightly between his own. "What do you mean, next time?" she demanded, glancing helplessly around the room, when no one could find the words to explain.

So it fell to Rose; she supposed it was fitting, given her involvement. "Another run-in with Lunarre is almost certain," she began, as gently as possible. "You… can probably guess why. After what he did to you." There was no way she could explain beyond that.

Fortunately, there wasn't a need to; Alisha nodded. "He—he told me he wasn't going to hurt me," she whispered, staring into her lap. "Th-that he was just borrowing me to find something he'd lost. He… d-didn't do what I thought he'd do"—Rose heaved a sigh of relief that the princess's experience had not mirrored the events of her dream—"but he told me to guess what he was looking for, and… t-took out the knife."

"And did you guess?" murmured Rose, half to herself.

"Yes," Alisha told her more forcefully, sudden anger steadying her voice. "I did, and that was when I stopped struggling. I could tell he knew, but he didn't stop. He didn't even say anything." Rose dropped her gaze, unable to look at her any longer, and noticed that she had stopped breathing. "So I lay there, wondering why I was enduring a punishment he had intended for you."

Dezel took several furious steps forward as she spoke, moving to stand just behind her. "Don't you dare put this on Rose," he warned her, crossing his arms, and Rose glanced up in dull surprise; Alisha tensed, and Mikleo hid his face in his hand at the hostility in his tone. "It's not her fault Lunarre is chasing her… and it's not her fault he's a hellion, either. She didn't do anything wrong."

Alisha inhaled sharply in a sudden sob. "I didn't—I didn't do anything to deserve what happened to me, either!" she snapped, her eyes welling up with furious tears; Sorey moved slightly closer to her, in an attempt at reassurance, but still did not open his eyes. "I d-didn't have anything to do with this! I n-never wanted this!"

"I never said you did!" exclaimed Rose, moving forward to kneel next to her in a desperate attempt to soothe the distraught princess. "What he did to you was _awful_ , and I'm truly sorry," she told her, sincerely, and though Alisha met her eyes, their expression was veiled behind layers upon layers of skepticism and wariness. "But there's nothing you can do about it from here. Don't you want to move on and make a difference?"

But Alisha made no response save to continue crying, this time into Sorey's shoulder, and Rose got to her feet out of frustration. Every tactic that would have worked on her apparently had the opposite effect on the princess, and it certainly didn't help matters that her phrasing wasn't at its best so soon after her awakening. But she was trying to _help_ …!

Taking a deep breath, Rose stood before the princess. "I don't understand what's wrong," she told her, as calmly as possible. "Traveling with us will keep you safe, and it just so happens that we're also trying to save the world. If you're holding out for a nobler cause, there isn't one." She crossed her arms, and the seraphim shifted restlessly in place, exchanging glances. "So, what's the problem?"

" _You_ are!" cried Alisha, pushing Sorey away weakly and getting to her feet with clenched fists: at least they were roughly the same height, thought Rose, so the princess didn't have the advantage by more than about a centimeter. "Sorey has been so k-kind and understanding," she told her, eyes blazing, but Rose could see her shaking. "Is it too m-much to ask that you do the s-same?"

Oh, that was _it_. She could understand if Alisha didn't accept her attempts to be helpful, but to insinuate that she wasn't even trying? That was the last straw. " _Excuse_ me," she growled, "but you've already turned down all the sympathy I've tried to offer. Which, incidentally, was genuine!" she snapped, putting her hands on her hips and leaning aggressively forward. "What more do you want from me? What more can I do?"

But the princess didn't answer her questions. "I'm st-staying right here," hissed Alisha, narrowing her eyes into an icy glare—but at least she had stopped her weeping, and merely sniffled instead. "H-here, where I belong. And there's nothing you can do about it, unless you're going to kidnap me!"

Rose snorted derisively; so she still wanted to be the victim, even after all she'd been through. "Oh, my mistake, _Your Highness_ ," she snarled pointedly, curtsying deeply. "I thought you actually liked making a difference, so I assumed you wouldn't decide to cower in your manor like a scared little girl." At her taunt, the princess gave a muffled screech of fury in the back of her throat, and Rose suppressed a savage smile of satisfaction. "But if that's the way you want it, maybe we're better off without you after all!"

Sorey rose behind Alisha, opening his mouth to intervene, but the princess unknowingly cut him off; only then did Rose become vaguely conscious of her incredulous audience of seraphim, but she was in too deep to back off now. " _Leave me alone_!" sobbed the princess shrilly, raising her hands and shoving Rose back into her seat on an impulse.

She, and everyone else, realized what she had done at the same moment, and eyes widened all around; no one even seemed to breathe. But Rose was far more sad than angry: she knew, perhaps better than any of them, that Alisha was only lashing out like any frightened animal would. She couldn't very well bring further physical harm to someone so deeply wounded; instead, she settled on making an impact in a different way.

"The world isn't going to stop falling apart just because you got hurt," hissed Rose, getting back to her feet; she stepped forward, and Alisha took an uncertain step back. "You want me to leave you alone? You want me to let you rest?" she spat, glaring into her glazed eyes. "You can rest when you're dead, _princess_ —and trust me, you won't be waiting long if you stay here!"

Turning on her heel, Rose stormed back up the stairs amid the stunned silence following her admonition. It was just her luck that the one person she needed to convince was the only one among them who refused to see that there wasn't much more time to lose than they'd lost already.

No matter how harsh Rose's actions might have seemed, the world in the throes of malevolence would treat the princess more harshly still, and Lunarre was unfortunately living proof; it was about time Alisha realized that. From now on, anything Rose could do to make her recognize how much they needed her, she _would_ do—even if she hated her for it.

* * *

 _What do you know, history repeats itself after all! There would have been way too much happening if I combined this chapter with the next one as I had planned, so I had to break it into a couple smaller ones again._

 _Anyhoo, the Battle of the Squires has unfortunately begun… but here, at least, there's a reason behind all this friction. In canon? Not so much. Pure pigheadedness isn't an excuse for the level of tension between them. Lunarre is. Oh, and just to be clear, Rose's current hormonal status was added long after I plotted the rest of this chapter (because it made sense in the context of that dream), so don't go blaming her confrontational behavior on that._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _As long as everyone's having fun! Get used to Rose asking your questions; she asks a lot of them, and most of them will probably be shared. And yeah, a moment of silence for Ellen. She was a sweet girl, if a little high-voiced._

 _ **Draconic:**_ _Please keep in mind that Alisha has just undergone very intimate and psychological torture, and as much as she cares for Sorey, her body and soul have both been violated almost to the point of hellionizing; there are quite a few things on her mind ranking higher than romance. Furthermore, Rose will always be the narrator, and it is partially her bias that prevents me from going into more detail on Sorey and Alisha's interactions; this is essentially her story, and while they are both fairly prominent as her fellow heroes, they are still secondary—and thus too will their relationship be. I hate to disappoint, but I stand by my characterization._


	16. Chapter 15: Temperance

"Are you sure that was the right move?"

Rose may have sneaked out the window, but she'd known better than to think she'd outmaneuvered Dezel; his voice behind her didn't come as much of a surprise. Really, the only reason she'd done it was so that she didn't have to dilute the strength of her departure by walking past them on her way out shopping. After all, with or without a second Squire, they'd still need more supplies; and since Rose needed something to do with herself (and no one would sell to the Shepherd anyway), it seemed an opportune time to restock.

She waited for Dezel to catch up with her, then glanced up at him as they walked in stride. "Sometimes… the best way to ensure someone's cooperation is to provoke them into accepting your terms as a challenge," she responded with a sigh. "If nothing else, this will make Alisha think harder than ever about her priorities—and if she joins us, she'll probably pull even more than her own weight just to prove herself." Rose smiled faintly. "She strikes me as that kind of a girl, anyway."

Dezel chuckled. "If that's the case, that was pretty devious of you," he told her, and it sounded like as much of a compliment as he ever gave: Rose's smile widened slightly before she remembered the intensity of her quarrel with Alisha, and she directed her eyes to the ground before her out of something like shame. Even if she had resigned herself to playing the bad guard to Sorey's good, she _really_ shouldn't have lost her temper like that.

"Don't get me wrong," Rose remarked, more seriously. "That argument was very much real. I honestly don't understand why she's so reluctant to come with us; she _has_ to understand that there's only so much she can do here in the nobles' quarter." Shaking her head, she continued, "Besides, after what Lunarre did to her… well, if it had been me, I wouldn't be able to rest till I'd served him his just deserts myself."

A bitter smile played on Dezel's lips. "That's how I feel about that girl," he responded, sighing heavily. "I've spent the last five years searching for her so I can avenge my friends." He paused uncertainly. "I don't think I even understand the concept of forgiveness anymore."

"I wouldn't go _that_ far," replied Rose, raising her eyebrows, "but I still get where you're coming from a hell of a lot more than I get Alisha." She pushed open the door to the central quarter with unnecessary force, descending the stairs to the marketplace a moment later. "Hey, what happened after I left, anyway?" added Rose as an afterthought, and shifted her bag uncomfortably on her shoulder.

Dezel smirked reminiscently. "It took a long time for anyone to talk, but then Sorey said if Alisha joined him, he wanted her to do it of her own free will," he explained. "He told her to take the rest of the day to decide, and brought her back to her room for some rest." He cracked his knuckles casually. "But whether the princess comes with us or not, we're leaving tomorrow morning."

Rose dipped her head in acknowledgment, examining some wares at the first stall (bravely weathering the storm for the sake of market day), but her mind was elsewhere. She was _not_ looking forward to going back to the manor; in all likelihood, Dezel was the only one who would understand her behavior towards Alisha, let alone sympathize. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if they ditched her and took the princess instead.

But at least she and her seraph could be miserable outcasts together: Rose braved a smile and took out her wallet.

* * *

She managed to eat up a couple hours with that little shopping expedition, in which endeavor Dezel was surprisingly happy to assist. After Rose was done restocking, which took a disappointingly short time, she'd spent so long dragging her feet towards the nobles' quarter that he'd suggested they rest before they went back—so they'd visited the deserted sanctuary, of whose beauty she quickly grew bored.

Until, pondering those enormous blue banners hanging from the ceiling, Rose thought rather suddenly of another game, maybe even better than keep-away. _Dezel_ , she told him excitedly, shaking his arm, _hide behind one of those banners, and I'll guess which one you're behind_! And, to her astonishment, he'd agreed to do so—but only because it would hone her intuition, Dezel clarified immediately, pulling his hat lower over his eyes. He really had no personal interest in games.

Rose had failed miserably at first, since of course he could manipulate the wind to make it seem like he was elsewhere; but gradually, she learned the patterns, and actually became quite good at sensing his true presence. Finally, when she had guessed correctly six times in a row, Dezel had smiled at her almost proudly. _You're learning to read the wind_ , he told her, and she positively beamed at him. _But we'll have to resume this lesson later. I think it's about time we got back before they start panicking._

But, by the looks of things, they were too late for that. "Rose!" exclaimed Sorey almost as soon as she was through the door, causing her to drop all her supplies, and practically tackling her into a marble statue of some chalice-bearing maiden, before spinning her aside into a tight embrace. "Thank goodness!"

"You didn't _tell_ them I was going shopping?" managed Rose, glaring at Dezel over Sorey's shoulder as the seraphim emerged; Lailah looked as relieved as her Shepherd, but Edna seemed indifferent, and Zaveid's eyes were narrowed.

Dezel crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "Of course I didn't," he returned. "I figured that was your business, and if you wanted them to know, you'd have told them yourself." He bared his teeth in a wry smile. "Besides, I wasn't about to cross you after a morning like that."

Rose opened her mouth to retort, but the exasperated Mikleo spoke up first. "We thought you'd left us," he grumbled, and Rose had to start flailing before Sorey would finally let her go. "Both of you were gone, and you need us less than we need you."

"Pretty sure we actually _do_ need you guys," returned Rose, running a hand through her hair awkwardly, and changed the subject as quickly as possible. "So, how's everyone's favorite princess?" (She was also the only princess on Glenwood, but that was largely beside the point.)

"You mean everyone's favorite Squire," returned Edna, shouldering her parasol nonchalantly. It took Rose a second to catch the insult; though she gave her usual dry _ouch_ in response, if she was being honest, that actually did hurt a little. Could she really be so easily replaced?

"Alisha underwent the ritual pretty much as soon as you guys left," put in Zaveid casually, crossing his arms. "Sorey took her to her room to rest, but she said she was going with us—no doubt in her mind. We tried to get her to take some more time to think, but she was all fired up about it." He shook his head with a shrug and a smile. "We're stuck with her now, thanks to you."

" _Zaveid_ ," hissed Lailah reproachfully, but he only grinned at her winningly.

Before either Dezel or Rose could ask their questions, Sorey caught sight of their expressions and answered them. "Alisha's in her room, packing," he explained. "She's agreed that we should leave at first light tomorrow. Er, dawn?" he amended, scratching his head. Rose could no longer suppress a smile; she knew he was considering which phrases might fit a world whose sky was always dark and rainy. "Early," he decided eventually.

"So what are we going to do for the rest of the day, then?" responded Rose, gesturing towards the bags strewn across the floor—full of a week's traveling supplies for eight. It was just her luck that Dezel couldn't have helped her carry them all here; as much as she would have loved his assistance, they couldn't risk it in the middle of a city. "I took care of restocking."

Mikleo raised a skeptical eyebrow. "And did you account for Alisha?" he asked pointedly; as Rose met his eyes, nodding slowly (and admittedly condescendingly), he scowled at her. "Well, excuse me if I'm a little bit suspicious!" he told her, bristling. "Given that you didn't know for sure she was coming too, not to mention the way you treated her a few hours ago, I figured I should ask. Sor _ry_!"

"If she's decided to come with us, I can't afford to just ignore her," pointed out Rose, crossing her arms. "Sabotaging one of us would sabotage us all. And besides," she added somewhat proudly, "if there's one thing we Scattered Bones are good at, it's separating our emotions from our actions."

But she froze in alarm as Alisha's curious voice asked from the landing, "What about the Scattered Bones?" Turning her head slowly to regard the princess—Squire—whatever—Rose realized that she had started descending the stairs, and wondered how much she had heard.

Better play it safe, she thought; this discovery would be the kiss of death to any sense of alliance they might cultivate. "You don't need to know," she decided firmly, and there was a collective sigh from her friends behind her; Zaveid muttered something that sounded suspiciously like _here we go again_.

Alisha narrowed her eyes. "Why do I get the feeling I'll be hearing that a lot?" she muttered, crossing her arms, and met her gaze furiously. "I am a Squire, just like you, so you have no right to treat me like I'm inferior. I can handle myself, you know, and I'm on your side!"

There was a brief and furious pause as Rose tried to calm herself down enough to speak quietly. "I'm _so_ sorry you got your feelings hurt," she responded through grit teeth, realizing the necessity of burying the hatchet in such a situation, but unable to be appropriately apologetic under the circumstances—especially since Alisha didn't seem to be able to decide whether she wanted to act like the knight or the damsel. "I didn't mean to imply that you're untrustworthy."

There was a brief and incredibly awkward silence, during which the two Squires stared one another down, before Alisha nodded shortly by way of acceptance, her eyes still fixed intently on Rose's. "Sorey," she said, turning rather stiffly to her Shepherd, "I had just been going to tell you that I'm ready to go."

"But we're not leaving until tomorrow morning," responded Sorey, his brow furrowed in bewildered surprise. "I mean, it's good that you're prepared, but we have the rest of the day to—"

To Rose's astonishment, Alisha actually interrupted him, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "The sooner we leave, the better," she remarked uncomfortably, looking him earnestly in the face. "Unless you want another dinner invitation from the council?"

Upon noting Sorey's continued confusion, Mikleo sighed. "Since you're the scapegoat for the current state of the world," he pointed out as patiently as possible, "it would be frankly ridiculous to assume the Hylander government will let her go with us willingly. What Alisha is saying is that it would be easier by far to sneak out."

Rose raised her eyebrow; Alisha had more potential than she thought. "I'm surprised you'd be willing to go behind your government's back like that," she told her, and though she intended it to be something of a compliment, she realized too late that most people would not consider it as such. She just kept digging herself in deeper, she thought ruefully, bracing herself.

"I have no other choice," responded Alisha, sharply. "I don't like operating in secret, but if I were to tell the truth, I would be imprisoned for it. Even more than I already am," she added bitterly, gesturing to their surroundings.

"Nice prison," remarked Rose, eyeing the vase of alterris lilies, "but I can see why you'd want to leave." She turned towards Sorey as she added, "The guards have probably already informed the higher-ups about this little incident, so… Alisha's right." The words seemed thorny in her throat, and the other Squire's eyes widened at the support. "The sooner we get out of here, the better. I have a bad feeling about this."

"Then we should leave under the cover of darkness," suggested Zaveid, with surprising immediacy. "My favorite time of day," he added, with a very noticeable wink to Lailah, who just as noticeably blushed: Edna rolled her eyes and opened her umbrella between them: Lailah anticipated this move and twirled out of the way, but Zaveid wasn't so fortunate.

Dezel raised his voice over his fellow wind seraph's yelp and subsequent complaint. "But waiting another several hours means the government has that much more of a chance to punch holes in our plans," he countered. "Crowds are as good a cover as night."

"Either way, we'll still have an issue with slipping past the guards," sighed Edna, twirling her parasol so that the spokes raked into Mikleo's shoulder: he stumbled backwards with a muffled cry. "Meebo, do you think you could use your phantom poncho, or whatever?"

" _Spectral cloak_ ," he retorted, turning a lovely shade of maroon, and Rose burst out laughing so that she missed whatever he said next—though sobered as Alisha shot her a dirty look. "But I can't maintain it long enough to go out the front," Mikleo was saying as Rose tuned in again, "so we'll have to go over the back fence… and it'd probably be safer if we _did_ wait till nightfall, just in case."

Dezel made a faintly annoyed noise deep in his throat, but offered no protests. "Fine," he conceded, then paused thoughtfully. "Zaveid and I can probably get you all over the fence. But _I'll_ take the girls," he added, narrowing his eyes; Zaveid looked crestfallen as Alisha and Rose both nodded gratefully.

"Over the back fence is… the lake," began Alisha hesitantly. "It used to be farther away, but all this rain has flooded it. If we can get to the shoreline, we can follow it around the city to the bridge, and go to Lakehaven Heights from there. It may be treacherous, but even if the council discovers us, they will not be able to stop us." She paused, glancing at Sorey and Rose. "You _can_ both swim, correct?" Alisha added, almost as an afterthought, and they both nodded.

Well, their plan was settled; once again, the only thing to do was wait, and they all knew it. When no one said anything, Rose broke the silence with an enormous yawn. "I don't know about you guys," she sighed, stretching, "but if I'm gonna take a midnight dip in a storm like this one… I'm gonna need the nap of a lifetime first."

As she stretched, her hand accidentally brushed Sorey's head, and she impulsively ruffled his hair. In return, he ducked his head and gave her his trademarked goofy grin, the same one that had first made her decide he was her little brother. She couldn't help returning his smile as she realized that all was forgiven; all was well that ended well, and while Rose couldn't say for certain that this _would_ end well, they were at least off to a decent start.

(Until she noticed, with a peculiar blend of annoyance and amusement, that Alisha's eyes seemed to burn greener still with jealousy.)

* * *

 _Stay tuned for settings that are not Ladylake! Well, not the city, anyway. In the meantime, a bit of resolution for you.  
_

 _…Also, since I've suddenly realized that I've actually been neglecting my health in favor of writing this story basically 17/7, and school will start up again at the end of the month whether I'm ready or not, the update frequency will probably lower considerably in the near future. Maybe not immediately, but soon. I'm sure you'll all be able to deal with it, but I figured I ought to warn you all the same._

 _ **PhoenixTheCat:**_ _Yuuuup, welcome to the general dynamic of Alisha and Rose: a feedback loop of misinterpretation and defensiveness, with maybe a little second-guessing thrown in here and there. Anyway, Dezel was fine with Zaveid supporting her first, because he didn't want to risk sabotaging Rose's efforts to reach an agreement… until he figured Alisha needed a little more pressure, anyway, and then all bets were off._


	17. Chapter 16: Shallow Depths

Even with Mikleo to keep the humans dry, Lailah to keep them warm, Edna to keep the mud off, _and_ two wind seraphim to hasten their movements, Rose was convinced that this would still be the longest night any of them had ever experienced.

"Are you _sure_ they're not going to follow us?" whispered Rose, slogging through the swamp that should have been dry land. "You two are pretty terrible liars," she added, a bite of impatience creeping into her voice when no one responded. "If the council actually leaves us alone for the next half hour, I'll eat Dezel's hat."

"Leave my hat out of this," growled Dezel, pulling it down over his head with both hands, and Rose couldn't help but smile gratefully when no one else bothered responding. She didn't think she had been able to smile since she and Sorey had exchanged that glance of relief and forgiveness a few hours ago, and that meant Alisha had needed to take over her job as mood-maker.

At which she was frankly awful, given her serious nature. The princess was far more helpful pulling rank than faces; she had gotten rid of the council's messenger, for instance, telling him to come back for them in half an hour—buying enough time for them to spirit themselves away in a hurry. More of Alisha's attention had been taken up with plotting that escape, and professing its perfection.

She may have asserted some time ago that the government wouldn't be able to stop them, but Rose still had her doubts. If the princess was really as valuable as she seemed to think she was, not even this weather would be enough to stop the council from reclaiming her. The less attention they attracted, the better; Rose wasn't planning on relaxing until they had arrived safely in Lakehaven Heights.

And so, instead of sitting down to dinner with the council, they waded wordlessly through the marsh for five minutes… ten minutes… half an hour… until finally, Sorey took a step forward and the ground wasn't there to catch him anymore. Rose and Alisha both gasped sharply as he flailed, falling face forward into the deeper shallows with a sudden splash; though he surfaced immediately with a smile of nervous reassurance, Rose tensed at the faint clank of armor and muffled shouts from above. Damn it.

"They found us," muttered Dezel, taking a combat stance and glancing up at the battlements. Rose pursed her lips in contemplation, her mind racing; they were exposed enough that if anyone attacked them, they'd be dead. And it didn't even have to be the council who did it; make no mistake, there _were_ hellions about. Lailah had warned them of how malevolent water could get, and here they were, three sitting ducks in a lake full of it. Well, stumbling ducks, anyway.

But Sorey seemed unperturbed; rather than clambering back up to stand alongside Alisha and Rose and strategize from there, he merely treaded water, frowning thoughtfully. "Hey, Mikleo," he remarked, his cape billowing around him. "You remember that comic Mason brought us from the outside world?"

"This isn't the _time_ , Sorey," responded Mikleo's voice irritably, echoing slightly as usual. Rose started and automatically rested a hand on the hilt of one of her daggers before forcing herself to relax under Alisha's warily curious gaze; gods, she hated disembodied voices.

"No, I mean, you remember how they got through the Serpent's Pass, right?" persisted Sorey. "You figure you can bend the water around us so we can walk on the bottom of the lake?" he continued, more excitedly, and Rose shook her head at the sparkle in his eyes. "And… maybe Dezel and Zaveid could make sure we don't run out of air!"

Rose blinked in surprise; it usually fell to her to come up with the shortcuts, but _somebody_ was thinking outside the box today. "Dezel and I don't make the wind," laughed Zaveid's voice; Rose glanced back at Dezel, expecting to find him smiling, but instead he seemed horrorstruck, his every muscle tense. "But there's still some air underwater, and since we're two powerful wind seraphim, we should be able to rig an exchange. Bring in the new air, push out the old."

Mikleo's voice sighed, and Rose could imagine him shaking his head. "Even so, I can only sustain one spell at a time," he told Sorey resignedly. "Either I can keep you all dry, _or_ I can manipulate the water around you like you just suggested. So, what'll it be?"

"There won't be as much of a need to keep us dry if we're walking instead of swimming," returned Sorey optimistically. "And Edna can still keep the mud at bay, right?" She gave a bored _mm-hmm_ , muttering some indistinct complaint about not having anything better to do. "Sounds like a plan, then, if you're all with me," added Sorey, glancing hopefully over at his Squires (and ignoring Dezel's faint groan).

Rose nodded somewhat hesitantly, and Alisha murmured her apprehensive assent; Sorey smiled at them encouragingly, patting the water beside him. Alisha and Rose exchanged a guarded glance before simultaneously approaching and stepping cautiously into the water on either side of Sorey. Water without wetness was a strange feeling, she reflected fleetingly. Like she was just floating in nothingness.

As Dezel took a few clearly reluctant steps forward to stand in front of them, Zaveid and Mikleo emerged next to him, the latter raising his rod in preparation for some powerful arte. Closing his eyes in concentration, he took a deep breath, and the tip of his staff glowed bright cerulean: the waters receded suddenly beneath them, and the three humans automatically clung to one another for stability. Mikleo stepped carefully down the rocks after them, Dezel and Zaveid following, until finally they were far enough down that the waters closed over their heads.

And so they walked on, encompassed by a little bubble at the bottom of the biggest lake in Glenwood. Zaveid led the way with Sorey and Alisha immediately following him (talking softly amongst themselves), with the quiet Mikleo in the exact center just behind; Rose stayed in front of Dezel, who brought up the rear. From what she could hear, he was mumbling something about his senses under his breath, but he sounded far more anxious than annoyed.

Frowning as she pondered his strange behavior, Rose realized with a jolt that if Dezel relied on reading the wind to understand his surroundings, he probably had an especially bad case of claustrophobia. But if she asked about it, he'd probably just get defensive and snap at her; thinking quickly, Rose instead opted to slow down and walk close beside him in a subtle gesture of reassurance. Judging by the quality of the silence between them, she supposed he appreciated it.

It was slow going, and even with Edna to help repel the mud, the soft ground still made it difficult to walk—but Rose would take sore feet in secrecy over splashing around and making a scene any day. She actually almost started relaxing into the rhythm of her aching footsteps, her bad feeling receding as the hours passed. Until, that is, they found the seventh skeleton.

The first six were harmless enough, if increasingly unpleasant; Rose found herself unsurprised when they stumbled across the first one, given how many people must have drowned over the centuries. But as they traversed more miles and found more bones, she grew more and more uneasy; they may not have been full-fledged ghosts, but they were a hell of a lot closer to ghosts than humans, and they still gave her that premonition all over again.

And the seventh one? The seventh one was not resting in peace. The seventh one stirred as they passed by, and it wasn't because of water displacement. And after their little bubble had left it behind, Rose glanced backwards with some alarm to find the seventh one getting to its skeletal feet and starting after them.

…Not that anyone noticed, even to observe Rose shaking in her boots. (The undead were about as bad as ghosts, as far as she was concerned.) "Uh, guys," she remarked, gesturing backwards frantically, but as everyone looked back, Rose realized that the murk had obscured its silhouette. "There's a thing chasing after us," she explained, almost stammering. "What are we gonna do?"

"A _thing_?" inquired Alisha, her voice a scornful synthesis of amusement and bemusement.

"A—a _skeleton_!" shot back Rose sharply. "The skeleton we just passed! Lailah," she added quickly, and the irony of consulting a disembodied voice on a matter involving ghosts was not lost on her. "You can sense it, right? The malevolence."

"There is indeed a presence pursuing us," sighed the seraph, apparently unwillingly; from the tone and quality of her voice, Rose wondered whether she had been dozing off. "But attacking it may prove as dangerous as being attacked, so it would be best just to keep moving. We must not let Mikleo's concentration break, or the weight of the water will crush us all."

"Don't worry about distracting me," insisted Mikleo unexpectedly; he hadn't spoken for hours. "I can focus as long as I don't get hit," he added; at his words, the group came to an uncertain halt in unspoken agreement, circling Mikleo and facing out to stare outwards at the lake—awaiting their adversaries.

"But even my flames will be of little use surrounded by this much moisture," murmured Lailah sadly, and Rose's eyes widened. The field of combat was so small that it would be almost impossible to keep Mikleo safe—especially without Lailah's fire to help them. Drawing her knives, she took a deep breath, steeling herself; if they could survive an encounter with the hellionized Maotelus, they could survive a single skeleton underwater.

But the first attack came not from the rear, as they had been expecting, but from both sides at once: Rose's eyes widened as spells of some sort sliced through their bubble. Though Sorey and Alisha both deflected the attacks automatically, her blood still ran cold; they weren't just facing a single skeleton. They were facing an _army_ on the tiniest battlefield imaginable… and they were surrounded.

And then, quite suddenly, chaos erupted in the shapes of rusty daggers and crumbling staves, tattered capes and pitted armor, bones and darkness and glimmers of red. Rose's reflexes took over so that she scarcely knew what she was thinking, only what she was doing: dodging and slicing, ducking and stabbing. (That was probably for the best, she thought, given that she was 95% sure that she would freak out completely if she thought too hard.)

Yet, as Rose's consciousness surfaced again unwillingly, it became all too apparent that none of her typical strategies seemed to have any effect. The skeletons only grinned all the more when she slashed at their throats; short of reducing them to splinters, Rose doubted there was a way to kill them all again without Lailah's purifying flames.

Hacking off their wrists was probably most effective in the meantime, thought Rose distractedly, severing a withered ligament to quite literally disarm her latest opponent—and Dezel, his pendulums useless in so enclosed a space, seized the last magician's head by hand and wrenched its spine aside with a sickening snap. Rose shuddered as he let the bones fall unceremoniously to the ground; it was too easy to imagine him doing the same to a regular human.

After quickly establishing that Dezel had the rest of her side under control, Rose gripped her knives more tightly to keep from trembling, and took the opportunity to evaluate her other comrades' situation; Mikleo miraculously still stood in the center with closed eyes and raised staff, by which eerie light the rest of the scene was dimly visible: from what little Rose could hear, he was murmuring some sort of frantic spell or reassurance to himself.

But then she noticed with a jolt that while Sorey and Zaveid were working together to cover Mikleo on two sides, Alisha was trying to do the same alone, confronting two skeletons with one spear… as a third crept up behind her with bared blade. "Oh no you _don't_!" hollered Rose, darting aside and springing forward to dig a dagger into its skull; it staggered forward, rattled its bones from top to toe as if in laughter—and threw its knife.

It missed Alisha's neck by an inch, and Rose almost breathed a sigh of triumphant relief… until the blade buried itself in Mikleo's side to the hilt. He cried out and grasped at the pommel; his focus broken, the bubble around them shivered, ready to burst inwards. "Mikleo!" shouted Sorey, reeling around with wide eyes; Zaveid nodded to Dezel urgently, and both of them swirled the air around them into a veritable tornado, sweeping the skeletons along with it in a clatter of bones.

Rose threw her arms over her face, the spray of foul water and whirling winds making it difficult to draw breath, let alone protect herself; what were they doing…? But she had no time to speculate: Mikleo's power finally failed, and Rose and Alisha both screamed. As the seraph collapsed and vanished into Sorey, leaving the bloody blade to sink into the lakebed, the water crashed down all around them; Rose squeezed her eyes shut in preparation for the end, praying to whichever of the Five Lords was responsible for water. Amenoch, right? Or was that Altul?

Only a few seconds after she started second-guessing the recipient of her prayer did Rose realize they weren't dead: rather, from what she could tell, they spun in the center of a whirlpool, the wind seraphim redirecting the water above them off to the side. As the waters retook their rightful place and rose beneath them, the vortex bore them upwards breathless and lightheaded… but alive and intact.

As they surfaced, Rose gasped for air, but subsequently retched. Trying desperately to get her bearings amid the haze of bilious hyperventilation, she initially saw only nothingness spinning all around her. That, or maybe she just hadn't opened her eyes yet; she couldn't tell. Until she caught the blurry glimmer of torchlight at the gate to Ladylake, and stabilized herself as she recognized their original destination—less than half a mile away.

Relief at the realization crashed down on her like the water, so that she laughed faintly aloud; they had made it! Seraphim and all, they had escaped the city and its corrupt council, not to mention an army of hellions. (Not bad for one night's work.) Rose beamed exhaustedly at her three visible companions, so relieved at their safety she almost forgot to tread water for a moment; though she couldn't see their expressions, she imagined they must feel the same way.

"Nice work, guys," she panted, nodding towards the shore; at this point, it would be shorter and safer just to head straight for land. "Just a little farthe—"

Rose was pulled under so quickly she could not react; she struggled, breathing water, swallowing water. In the blur of panic, she realized that a tendril of some sort had grabbed hold of her ankle, dragging her back down to the depths; Rose squinted down at it in the vain hopes of discerning its nature… but it blended in so perfectly with the darkness seething all around her that it might have been pure malevolence—all that was left of those skeletons.

Kicking desperately against the malevolence with lungs full of liquid, Rose could feel herself growing weaker and weaker every moment. But just as she started thinking she was dying again, this time for real, someone caught her hand roughly. She turned her face upward automatically, even though she knew she would not be able to see anything; would they tear her apart, trying to pull her free? But rather than tug against the tendril as she expected, her ally only grasped her hand tightly, almost reassuringly—and then, their half-gloved hand disappeared in a flash of green light.

As a presence settled into her core, Rose at first thought dimly that she had been corrupted… but this felt far too warm and familiar to be malevolence. Obeying an order she had not issued, her muscles tensed suddenly, and a bubble of air expanded around her head. Rose's lungs contracted and her stomach heaved at once, too much water streaming unbroken from her mouth, before she found that she could finally breathe again.

To her confusion, her body again moved of its own volition: drawing her daggers, she bent to slide them both between her leg and the malevolence, forcing the tendril to expand; then, she slid her foot deftly out of its hold, letting it close around her knives instead and drag them down in her place. But as Rose kicked upwards to swim up, she convulsed suddenly, and her consciousness wavered; the presence in her core flickered and—as her body relaxed—lifted altogether.

Airless, thoughtless, careless, she drifted there in oblivion, floating somewhere between life and death… until strong arms closed around her suddenly from behind, bearing her swiftly towards the surface, and she blacked out.

* * *

 _Skeleton hellions (skellions?) totally not inspired by "Pirates of the Caribbean". And if you caught the more obvious reference, another internet cookie for you.  
_

 _Anyway, man oh man, what a time for my computer to crash! At least I warned you guys I'd be gone for awhile first, even if the actual reason ended up being somewhat different than expected. Oh, and the irony is that I was writing this chapter when it died, and it was water that killed it. Thank gods the hard drive stayed intact so I didn't have to rewrite the whole thing…  
_

 _ **ZalelTribal:**_ _Since Rose is the star of this particular story, Sorey and his relationships will always be of secondary importance—whether with Alisha or with Mikleo. Though I myself ship both pairings, neither will come into much prominence for most of the story; however, since I like to stick as closely as possible to canon interactions, there will be (and/or have been) hints for each. However, do please keep in mind that this story does not follow the same path as canon, and so too might the nature of certain relationships differ._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Apparently, it's not just you who doesn't get Alisha, so let me summarize. Due to her recent experience with Lunarre, she is now clinging to what little she knows out of a desire for safety—which amounts to her life in the nobles' quarter, and Sorey. The problem is that Alisha was forced to choose between them; she realized the necessity of joining the Shepherd following Rose's outburst, but she is insecure about where she fits into the group dynamic given that even though she was Sorey's first Squire, Rose has effectively replaced her. Add in the fact that she was the reason for her torture, or so Alisha thinks, and you have a very complex dynamic._

 _ **N:**_ _Thank you for the compliments! It's interesting that you say you can hear/picture them sometimes, because part of my writing is running a "voice test" to see if I can hear the characters saying the lines. If I can't fit the dialogue to the character, I rewrite or change who says it. As for taking care of myself, I'm basically back to normal, so I hope to work on this story some more now that I've taken a week off!_


	18. Chapter 17: Hell or High Water

Heat. Sweltering heat. Damp heat. Based on these observations, there were only two possibilities: Rose had ended up in in Plitzerback Wetland, or she had ended up in hell. Not that there was much of a difference between the two, in her experience—but either way, judging by how dead she felt, her money was on the latter. (If only there was currency in hell.)

Half-conscious, Rose faintly, trying to remember the last thing she'd seen; she got the vague feeling that her life had been flashing before her eyes, though she couldn't remember how she'd died. But really, that was irrelevant; the voices of her fellow damned murmured indistinctly all around her, and she focused hard. If she listened, maybe she'd hear some sort of hint about what had happened—or what was _going_ to happen.

"Can't you do something?" snapped an insistent male voice, the first words Rose heard clearly. Its source was pacing, from the sound of heavy footsteps, and the variability of its location. Black and white and green flashed through her mind; belts and buckles, glimmers of gold on a well-worn hat. She _knew_ these people…

"I've done all I can," responded a female gently, if a little wearily—like faint firelight and flowing silk. "My artes alone are powerless to heal mana toxicosis. Even if I were ten times stronger…" The first voice interrupted her with a derisive noise, as if she were just making excuses.

"Give it a rest. Literally," put in a slightly deeper-voiced man, somewhere between exasperated and concerned; Rose recalled bare skin and white lines. "You haven't slept all night, and you're the only one of us who has to travel on foot. Chill out."

"How can I _sleep_ when my vessel is in danger?" snapped the first voice again, as if sleep was the only thing more ridiculous than mana toxicosis.

"Exhausting yourself isn't going to help anyone," pointed out a younger girl, and there was the sound of a jab and a growl. An image burst into Rose's mind of sunshine on mountains, an opening umbrella (or was that a flower?). She was so close to getting the full picture…

"And besides, you knew that was a risky move when you made it," added a teenage boy accusatorily, and Rose thought of—water. _So_ much water. She shuddered at the recollection; she never wanted to think of water again. As her memories flooded back in reverse, the chill of malevolence threatened to overwhelm her all over again, dragging her down into the suffocating depths…

"Don't you dare blame me!" snapped Dezel, bringing her back to the scene; Rose almost smiled in relief as their names all drifted back to her at last. She'd been worried she wouldn't remember at all, since this infernal heat made it so hard to think. (If this _wasn't_ hell, she realized suddenly, she must have the worst fever of her life.) "That malevolence would have killed her if I hadn't taken over," added Dezel sharply.

"Oh, so you just wanted to kill her yourself, then," responded Edna coolly, and Rose wished her eyelids didn't feel so heavy; she could not gauge the nature of the ensuing silence without her sight. The wind had turned cold, she noticed, which felt nice in the haze of heat—but still she shivered. In the sudden chill, yes… but also in anticipation of Dezel's reaction.

"If you _ever_ say that again," he spat finally, quiet in his deadly fury, "I'll make sure those words are your last."

"Yeah, that wasn't funny, _Edna_ ," added Mikleo crossly, ever quick to bully his tormentor, and Lailah gave a light sigh in response. Rose occupied herself with trying to discern her surroundings without sight; she wished to gods she could read the wind, because there was plenty of it around.

"I wasn't joking," responded Edna, evidently puzzled at Dezel and Mikleo's offense, but Rose's focus remained on her environment. She lay somewhere out of the rain, certainly, on a cot through which she could feel cold stone; and the slight echo of her comrades' voices meant they must have stopped to rest in a cave at some point.

But Zaveid's half-laugh interrupted her observations. "That's even worse," he sighed, and Rose lost track of the conversation once and for all as Dezel's footsteps approached her.

"Since you only controlled her for a moment," murmured Lailah, "her life shouldn't be in danger. You said her body forced you out?" There was a pause as Dezel probably nodded. "That's a good thing," she continued, letting out a long breath. "If you'd held onto her any longer, she might have… died."

Rose's blood ran cold at the thought that her savior had come so close to becoming her murderer, and she started trembling uncontrollably; but they did not sense her wakefulness. There was a moment of silence before Dezel could respond, his voice shaking: "I—I didn't know," he confessed, shock masking something like remorse. "I thought, since we could armatize, she'd be safe."

"Armatization is collaborative, and even that had negative side effects for her," returned Lailah gently, and something lifted from Rose's forehead; it might have been a rag. "Possession is… unnatural. All the more so in a bond like yours." There was a pause as Lailah tenderly rested a cold cloth on her head. "It's more urgent than ever that we find some way to formalize it."

Dezel sighed. "And until then, I should keep my soul to myself," he replied, his voice weighted with some unidentifiable emotion; it sounded more sad than bitter. "Got it."

"Just for a little while longer," responded Lailah, almost apologetically. "But we _are_ less than a week away from Elysia," she continued, more thoughtfully. "It's likely that Zenrus knows of an alternative focus… or he may even have a spare Divine Artifact."

"Gramps will have a solution for sure," chimed in Mikleo, breaking away from his latest argument with Edna to join the discussion. "I don't remember seeing any Divine Artifacts lying around, but that's not to say he doesn't have one. If he does, I bet he keeps it someplace special."

"Yeah," agreed Edna, a sly smile in her voice as she continued. "He probably just didn't want you and Sorey to _break_ it," she added, and Mikleo's annoyed yelp in response told Rose that she'd poked him with her parasol. "Miklumseo."

The corner of Rose's mouth twitched despite herself, and she found herself surprised and relieved that her body had started obeying her own commands again; she had not been able to move since she had first awakened. "All right, break it up, you two," remarked Zaveid amusedly, raising his voice slightly over Mikleo's retort. "You're not making it easy for Rose to keep a straight face, and she'd probably rather be asleep anyway."

Rose couldn't help but smile more fully at his observation, though it quickly became a grimace as she stirred faintly and her every muscle protested. " _What_?" gasped Dezel, and her eyes fluttered open to find him sinking to one knee at her shoulder. "Are you all right?" he demanded, though she could see well enough that it was only worry that made his words so vehement. Ears ringing with the urgency of his question, Rose managed a nod with a colossal effort, grimacing as her neck twinged.

" _Shhh_ ," hissed Edna with sudden seriousness, raising a finger to her lips and glancing apprehensively deeper into the cave—a small and relatively shallow scoop out of a cliffside. "Do you want to wake the others? They're about as tired as Rose here, if a little less sick."

Mikleo furiously started pointing out her hypocrisy, but Zaveid raised his voice above theirs. "It's about time we set off anyway, don'tcha think?" he remarked in an odd tone between light and serious, crossing his arms. "If anyone catches us in _this_ condition… well, that would be bad."

"But is it safe to move her?" insisted Dezel desperately, and his hand found its way into hers, trembling slightly; she squeezed it weakly in an attempt to reassure him she was fine, and also awake, so stop talking about her like she wasn't there—but could say nothing. "She's burning up."

"It's far safer to move her than to stay," responded Lailah, getting to her feet, and glanced at her other companions. "Let's wake them."

And with that, Rose lost track of what exactly was happening behind her; she simply lay there with Dezel at her side, listening to the relentless rain. Her friends' voices drifted in and out of her ears—Zaveid's insistence that he awaken the princess with a kiss; the grunt that followed as Edna poked him; Lailah's giggle in response; Mikleo murmuring something to his Shepherd—before she heard someone cry her own name.

Suddenly, Sorey sat at her other side, concern glistening in deep green eyes; he must have been the one to speak. Rose blinked up at him in her feverish stupor; how could he move so fast? But before either of them could say anything, Edna approached and rested her hand on his shoulder, drawing his anxious attention momentarily away from her. "Don't worry," she told him stonily. "She's as fine as someone with mana toxicosis can be."

"Edna, dearest," sighed Lailah, as Sorey's eyes widened in alarm. "You're not helping." And, as Alisha finally made her appearance, Rose glanced around at her companions to find that they all looked like they were standing around her deathbed. She could see pity or worry or both in their eyes, and if there was one thing she _hated_ , it was being thought of as helpless.

"I-I'm fine," she coughed weakly, forcing herself to sit up, but her entire body felt heavy and sluggish; her muscles refused to support her, and she instantly fell back again, bracing herself for impact against the rocky ground. But instead, Dezel caught her and slowed her fall, resting her down gently on her cot.

"The hell you are!" he exclaimed fiercely. "Lie _still_ ," he added, glowering, and pushed her down half-gently when Rose ignored him and tried again. "The rest of us can take care of everything for now." He glanced around at the rest of the group, clearly challenging them to prove him right; they took the hint and dispersed, packing up whatever supplies they had managed to salvage. (Not too many, from the looks of things.)

"But I d-d-don't w-want to be a—a burden," protested Rose, chattering suddenly, and reflected briefly on how much she hated fevers and chills. How could she feel so hot and so cold at the same time? It was just so _stupid_. Like malevolence, sort of, only in her head instead of her core. Gods, even her own thoughts weren't making any sense anymore; she was so tired…

Surprisingly enough, it wasn't Dezel but rather Alisha who responded first. "Caring for a wounded comrade is hardly something I would call a burden," she retorted, stuffing her cot into its bag as though angry with it. "Besides, if you force yourself to be strong, it'll only make you weaker in the end."

"Yeah, and you know what would really drag us down?" added Edna, shouldering her parasol nonchalantly. "If you actually _died_. Better let the guys carry you till you're better." She glanced over at her favorite target, busy helping Sorey. "Except Lady Meebo over there," she continued, smirking. "Weakleo."

"Give me a break for once," exclaimed Mikleo passionately, straightening up to glare at Edna; recognizing the loss of his assistant, Sorey hastily picked up where his Sub Lord had left off. "I got _stabbed_ yesterday!"

"And I healed you," returned Edna, maddeningly smug. "You're welcome, by the way."

But as they resumed their bickering once more, Rose's attention drifted elsewhere. If she had to just sit by and let her friends handle everything for longer than the rest of today, she was going to go crazy; not that she'd have much of a choice, if her thoughts remained this cloudy. "H-how long is this going to last?" she asked of Lailah, as the Prime Lord approached alongside the other Squire.

"Oh, I'd imagine until one of them starts ignoring the other, as usual," she responded idly, eyeing Mikleo and Edna with a half-affectionate smile. Rose blinked; she could have guessed that much for herself. Gods knew she'd been around them long enough.

But before she could clarify what she had really meant, Lailah gasped and blushed, evidently realizing her mistake. "O-oh!" she exclaimed, wringing her hands. "You mean the toxicosis. Um, I can't say for sure, but you're already in better condition than you were last night, so… that's something!"

As she offered an awkward smile by way of reassurance, Rose's eyes widened; shock momentarily cleared her head. "If this is _better_ ," she managed hoarsely, after a speechless pause, "I must have been at death's door."

"Yeah," responded Zaveid, sauntering up beside Lailah and attempting to rest his arm on her shoulder; she twirled away from him in favor of lending her aid to the struggling Sorey. From what Rose could tell, he definitely needed the assistance; at the moment, he was trying in vain to both mediate between his squabbling Sub Lords _and_ continue to pack up their supplies.

Zaveid gazed after Lailah resignedly, but rather than pursue her, crouched next to Rose instead. "We actually thought you were a goner at first," he continued rather too casually for her liking, "but Dezel here hadn't become a hellion yet"—he reached across Rose to clap his shoulder—"so we didn't give up hope."

"What exactly does that mean?" asked Alisha curiously, arranging her spear on her back and stepping forward with bags in hand. At least one of them was ready to go, thought Rose; if she'd had more of a brain, she might have been surprised that the princess was the first one to get her act together. "Were you _expecting_ him to become a hellion?" she pressed, when no one responded.

Zaveid sighed, shaking his head. "Rose, explain to your fellow Squire how vessels work."

Rose blinked; why he had chosen to spring a pop quiz on her now of all times was beyond her, as were most other matters at the moment. "Uh," she managed, scratching her head and racking her feverish brains. She knew she _was_ a vessel, and that was about it—and it had taken quite a bit of digging to figure that one out. "I don't know?"

Frowning confusedly, Zaveid opened his mouth to say something, but Edna spoke first; grateful for her distraction, Mikleo immediately scurried over to help Sorey and Lailah. "Looks like our Prime Lord still hasn't bothered explaining anything to the Squires," she observed. "As usual."

"W-well, it's not usually relevant!" stammered Lailah defensively, flushing; apparently, she was preoccupied with tying the drawstring on one of Sorey's bags into the perfect bow. "And we have enough on our minds already without thinking about ves—"

"Long story short," interrupted Edna, twirling her parasol lazily, "humans are born into their own vessels, but seraphim aren't. If we keep to ourselves and each other, that's not a problem… but if we get too powerful, or if we want to interact with this world in any meaningful way, we need a vessel to bind us to it first."

"Otherwise, the effort of trying to live in this world without any concrete connection to it generates malevolence," continued Zaveid, straightening up. "Morgrim told me once that without a vessel, we can't live with a paw in each world. 'Course, she's a cat seraph, so the 'paw' part applies more to her than us… but her point still stands."

"And a vessel also anchors a seraph's blessing," continued Lailah, stepping delicately forward—the bow evidently tied to her satisfaction. "But if the seraph strays too far away, or if the vessel is corrupted, then the domain becomes malevolent… and the seraph becomes a hellion."

"But what does that have to do with…" began Alisha, rubbing her forehead in agitated confusion, as Sorey finally approached with Mikleo at his side. The latter seemed to be trying to prove Edna more by carrying easily twice as much as necessary, leaving Sorey almost empty-handed.

Edna prodded Alisha in the head gently with her parasol. "You got water for brains or something?" she asked impatiently. " _Rose is Dezel's vessel_! If she'd died, voilà, we'd have a hellion on our hands. That's what we were expecting to happen last night, but as it is, they're both fine." She evaluated the two of them appraisingly. "Mmmmostly."

As Alisha flushed in apparent embarrassment and opened her mouth to retort, Zaveid crossed his arms with a drawn-out sigh. "We can talk while we walk, y'know," he pointed out, and Lailah nodded fervently. "We should really get out of here before the hellions come a-callin'."

Even as he spoke, Dezel inclined his head briefly in agreement and slipped one hand under her knees, using the other to support her back; Rose put an arm around his shoulders as he picked her up. Sorey, meanwhile, hastily rolled up her cot and slung it over his back.

There was a long pause as everyone exchanged glances; they all felt as though they were forgetting something, but they had everything that had survived the trip, and they were all alive. For now, anyway, thought Rose dimly; as if obeying some silent signal, Sorey's seraphim (excepting the resolute Mikleo) disappeared into their Shepherd, and they set out into the dismal weather.

As they continued, with only the storm and the occasional murmur breaking the silence, Rose reflected that she may have hated not being able to fend for herself, but she couldn't deny that there was a certain amount of inexplicable comfort that came with being carried. She found herself relaxing to the beat of raindrops and footsteps, a little like a lullaby, and eased into unconsciousness once more.

* * *

Once she came to again, what might have been hours later, the first thing Rose noticed was that Dezel's hands hadn't moved. Amid the haze of heat, she found herself frankly astonished that he'd been able to muster the strength to carry her like this for so long at a stretch; she smiled faintly as something occurred to her. "So I can't ride on Sorey's back for a few minutes," mumbled Rose, by way of rhetorical clarification, "but it's perfectly fine for you to hold me like this for hours on end."

Dezel's grip tightened briefly on her shoulder and thigh as she spoke, and she realized with a twinge of guilt that she had startled him with her wakefulness. "Do you want me to carry you, Rose?" asked Sorey, misinterpreting her words and glancing backwards, but Rose was preoccupied with watching Dezel's reaction; his color heightened slightly, and his fingers twitched as if he longed to pull his hat down farther over his eyes, but he made no verbal response.

"Someone needs to," put in Zaveid, emerging unexpectedly from Sorey to walk alongside his fellow wind seraph, "and Dezel here pulled an all-nighter even before he decided to carry his vessel around for four hours. I think _somebody_ needs a rest, even if he doesn't feel like admitting it." He shot a pointed glance at Dezel, who was too busy proving his point by yawning to protest.

"I'm surprised you didn't volunteer first, Zaveid," pointed out Mikleo's voice, and Rose felt too exhausted to be frightened at his lack of visibility. "Hell must have frozen over if you'd pass up an opportunity like this."

Zaveid shrugged. "What's the point?" he asked, smiling ruefully. "I'd just get hit for it, and I'm no masochist. That said," he added, grinning more widely, "I'm still about as willing and able as they come, and you won't find a stronger pack animal anywhere. Why don't you let me have a turn?"

Before anyone could say either yea or nay, Edna spoke up from inside Sorey. "Let's all just take a moment to appreciate that Zaveid just referred to himself as a 'pack animal' and saved me the trouble," she remarked wryly, and Rose gave a delirious half-smile. It was difficult to focus when her brain seemed to be boiling in her skull; Edna's voice was monotone and meaningless. "Nice job."

"No way in hell am I entrusting my vessel's body to a wolf like you," snapped Dezel, getting back to the subject at hand. Too feverish to be annoyed with his protectiveness, Rose nonetheless found herself unsurprised at his objection. If he'd protested about _Sorey's_ conduct, there was no way he'd let Zaveid anywhere near her.

"Yeah, yeah," responded the other wind seraph, his voice edged with a sigh, and shook his head in evident exasperation. "I'm a shallow man with obvious motives, so sue me."

"Here," remarked Sorey, taking initiative to stand next to Dezel, and proffered his back; the group came to a halt. "You don't have to take your eyes off h—I mean, erm, you can read the wind all you want. But I'll take good care of her, I promise."

There was a brief pause before Dezel heaved a resigned sigh, carefully passing Rose off to Sorey's back; meanwhile, Alisha raised a hand to her chin, frowning in confusion. "A… wolf?" she asked, nonplussed, and Rose couldn't for the life of her remember what wolves had to do with anything until she recalled that Dezel had said something about them in conjunction with Zaveid.

"It means he's a seducer," responded Mikleo, blinking over at her in surprise, and hoisted his bags farther up his back with a grimace; oh, so that was the context. "You've never heard that before?" he added, as the group set off again—Dezel striding alongside Sorey.

Alisha shook her head, but Lailah laughed, and everyone free of mana toxicosis braced themselves for some intolerable pun. "Zaveid did say he was a _pack animal_!" exclaimed Lailah gleefully, and there were groans all around… except from Rose, who giggled faintly before she lapsed into feeble coughing. Maybe it was just the fever talking, but that one wasn't too bad.

"She must be _really_ sick if she thought that was funny," sighed Dezel, but Rose caught him half-smiling out the corner of her eye; readjusting her arms around Sorey's neck, she closed her eyes and nestled her face into the Shepherd's cape: time for another nap.

"Hang in there, Rose," murmured Sorey, reaching up to ruffle her hair briefly, and she smiled to herself. Just another few days, Rose told herself firmly as she drifted away, and all would finally be well.

* * *

 _More covert references, more internet cookies to give out! Two in total this time, I think. *counts* Yeah, two. Not counting toxicosis, of course. Also, school starts this week, so you know that update slowdown I mentioned? Yeah, that's gonna be happening heavy-duty. Well, heavier.  
_

 _ **N:**_ _Eheh, well, with regard to the possession thing, I think this entire chapter qualifies as messing with Rose. If you end up being one of the regulars, you should get some sort of a badge for being the first consistent anon reviewer!_

 _ **Draconic:**_ _And we have a winner! Believe me, I would have dearly loved to write Dezel saying "Oh, Rose, you saved me!" and Alisha responding "Actually, it's me," but I suppose we can't have everything._


	19. Chapter 18: Smoke and Mirrors

All was most definitely _not_ well.

Rose's fever had thankfully receded by the time they reached what used to be Aroundight Forest yesterday… but unfortunately, so had Zenrus's blessing. Whether caused by hellions or lightning, fire had thoroughly ravaged the forest by the time they arrived—the bitter icing on an already poisonous cake. And though they'd agreed to wait till this morning to traverse what used to be woodland, Rose could tell that neither Sorey nor Mikleo had slept well last night.

Maybe it was their clear exhaustion that slowed them down, or maybe it was the charred branches half-blocking labyrinthine paths, but the sun was already setting by the time they arrived in Elysia… not that any of them could tell through skies as impenetrably cloudy as these. Rose had only been to the village once, and much of the surrounding scenery appeared nothing more than dark silhouettes in a darker night, but it was nonetheless very much evident that something was off.

"The blessing," murmured Lailah's voice, breaking what seemed to be an age-old silence, and emerged from Sorey with comforting crimson flames cupped in her hands—spreading her reassuring light and heat before her. "I can sense it, just ahead. Zenrus's domain may have shrunk, but the borders are as strong as ever. He hasn't been corrupted."

At her words, Sorey and Mikleo let out the breath they'd been taking turns holding all day, indistinct utterances of relief woven into their shared exhalation as they leaned against one another briefly. Alisha and Rose shared a tentative smile; both of them cared a great deal about Sorey, albeit in different ways, and it had been almost more than either of them could bear to see him in so much pain. Thank gods his spirits had risen a little.

Hearts and feet both lightening, they continued their march to Elysia more resolutely than ever, Lailah illuminating the way forward as they continued onward. Rose sighed, leaning her head sullenly on Dezel's shoulder and wishing wholeheartedly she could walk by their sides. She'd barely been able to stand on her own, let alone fight for herself, ever since they'd left that cliffside cavern. Not that she missed her aching feet, necessarily, but to know so many feet were aching on her behalf…

Dezel's most of all, of course, but he hadn't complained once. He'd carried her for longer at a stretch than anyone else, and sometimes he'd take her even when it wasn't his turn. He claimed this was to avoid letting Zaveid touch her, despite his insistence that he'd hardly dare trying any funny business if her arms were going to be around his neck… but Rose suspected that carrying her was Dezel's infuriatingly subtle way of apologizing for everything he'd put her through.

(Though it _was_ worth noting that Mikleo had also carried her once or twice, albeit for short bursts, in order to prove a point to the continually unimpressed Edna.)

Rose probably dozed off during the last leg of their trip, reflecting on how grateful she was for her comrades; otherwise, Sorey's shout might not have startled her so badly. "Gramps!" he cried; Rose's eyes flew open in alarm, and she realized suddenly that if the miraculous lack of rain was anything to go by, they had finally arrived at their destination, within Zenrus's protective domain. "Are you okay? It's Sorey!"

" _And_ Mikleo," called his Sub Lord, shooting a half-annoyed, half-anxious glance at his Shepherd; Dezel set Rose down gingerly, though he kept a stabilizing hand on her shoulder. "Let us in!" continued Mikleo, more desperately. "Please?" he added after one more pause, as an afterthought: at his last word, the lock mechanism clicked open and the door swung slowly forward.

Lailah let her fire flicker out as her light was replaced by that of the lamps inside. The door had barely started moving before Sorey forced it further aside and charged into the house—but he stumbled to a halt in the middle of the anteroom, rigid in shock.

"M-Mayvin!" gasped Sorey, and Rose blinked in astonishment, striding alongside Alisha to see the situation for herself. Mayvin? _Here_? Even for the old man, that ought to have been impossible; humans, however extraordinary, were still only humans. Pushing past the other seraphim, Rose clung to Dezel's arm as she squinted at the firepit in the next room.

Sure enough, Mayvin knelt by the fire as if quite accustomed to it, facing away from them; Zenrus sat cross-legged across the fire from him, though he too refused to look at his visitors. "O-old man?" exclaimed Rose incredulously, swaying in place; he tensed at the sound of her voice, turning his head sharply to glance at her out the corner of his eye.

"Rose," greeted Mayvin finally, sounding resigned, and got slowly to his feet. "Zenrus, why didn't you tell me you were expecting company?" he added lightly to the seraph, crossing his arms. "I'd have been on my way much sooner."

"I _wasn't_ expecting company," responded Zenrus darkly, taking his pipe out of his mouth, and glared at the doorway. Though his eyes were barely visible beneath his bushy eyebrows, the anger in his countenance was abundantly clear, and Rose found herself trembling—though that may have been more in response to the chill winds, still wafting in from outside.

Dezel ushered her further inside, half against her will; the others tentatively followed, watching Zenrus's expression warily, but he offered neither encouragement nor protest as Edna shut the door behind them. "You… can see the seraphim?" asked Alisha of Mayvin, voicing everyone's thoughts as she eyed him somewhat suspiciously.

Mayvin only raised an eyebrow. "Princess Alisha, I presume," he responded, bowing somewhat more stiffly than Rose would have expected. He was rather sprightly for his age, after all. "The name's Mayvin," he continued, stroking his beard, and attempted an unsuccessful smile. "I assume you're one of Sorey's Squires, if you can see them too."

Alisha frowned, but Rose was the one to respond; she'd dealt with enough secrecy for a lifetime. "Give us a straight answer for once, old man," she sighed, crossing her arms, and leveled her gaze straight at his face—staring him down as best she was able. "How can you see the seraphim?"

She half expected him to return an evasive reply, but instead, he only heaved a long sigh and shook his head. "If you want real answers, you'll have to work for them," he warned, his words weighted with sorrow. "But I _can_ tell you that I am the Storyteller of Time," he confessed quietly, as though that should mean something. "The last one, in fact; I've no descendants to carry my name."

"I knew it," muttered Dezel, crossing his arms, and looked him up and down; a frown flickered across Rose's face, but she had no time to inquire about a Storyteller of Time's job description—and neither did any of her companions, much to her annoyance. (She supposed, struggling against resentment, that it would be unreasonable to assume this answer would come any more easily than the others.) "Why are you here?" he continued, as bluntly as usual.

"I only came to discuss the weather with an old friend," replied Mayvin dryly, glancing up at the ceiling before directing his gaze evenly at Sorey. "But to what do I owe the pleasure of meeting with the Shepherd and his companions?" he added, with delicate emphasis, and Rose narrowed her eyes; his was not quite a friendly tone—merely civil. "I was under the impression that you were off gallivanting around some shrines in search of power."

"Uh, sort of," stuttered Sorey, apparently caught off-guard; as he responded, he ducked his head as though he'd been scolded. "Do you mean… the four elemental powers?" he asked hesitantly, raising his head again with a question in his eyes. "Because we obtained those some time ago."

"So naturally, you used them to kill the Lord of Calamity without investigating either his circumstances or your own," continued Mayvin, disapproval making itself evident in his every feature. "I expected better of you, Shepherd. And _you_ ," he added, turning to Rose with continually darkening countenance; her heart skipped an uncomfortable beat. "One of your responsibilities as Squire is to keep the Shepherd on the path of virtue. Have you, too, strayed from your duties?"

It might have been better if Mayvin's voice had been accusatory; as it was, it sounded almost curious, as though Rose was on trial… but before she could gather her thoughts, let alone speak, Dezel responded in her defense. "Why is it that everything is always _Rose's_ fault?" he growled, his grip on her shoulder tightening, and Alisha had the grace to look slightly apologetic. "Lay off for a second! It's no more her fault than any of ours."

Lailah bowed her head in Rose's peripheral vision, evidently troubled, but did not contradict him; Mayvin took note of her expression, but did not address it. Instead, he only heaved a sigh. "Do your research and atone for your mistake," he told them eventually, _almost_ contemptuously, but his voice seemed too sad to be truly spiteful. "Gather all the Earthen Historia if you wish to know thine enemy, and bring them back to me."

"Can't you just _tell_ us about thi—our enemy?" demanded Rose, narrowing her eyes. How could they hope to gather all the iris gems? The dragon couldn't be more than a few days away, and leaving the world in this state while they went around in search of treasure would feel… wrong. "You're the Storyteller, or whatever," she persisted, clenching her fists weakly. "So tell us some stories!"

Mayvin shook his head with a humorless smile. "I'm headed for Lohgrin," he told them, pacing forward; the others mutely backed away to let him pass. "Come to me once you're ready to understand the threat the world now faces… and more importantly, _why_."

As he opened the door to take his leave, Rose glanced around cautiously at her companions, trying to gauge their moods. Edna remained as impassive as ever; Sorey looked stricken, even with Mikleo's hand on his shoulder by way of reassurance. Alisha wavered in place uncertainly next to Lailah, whose gaze remained downcast—and Zaveid's narrowed eyes were fixed intently on Mayvin's back.

"At least… come with us," wheedled Rose. He seemed to have the answers they sought, and it would definitely be handy to have him along, if only he'd give up trying to dodge his duty. "Please?"

But it was Lailah who responded. "You know he can't," she pointed out softly, and it was at her words—not Rose's—that Mayvin halted in the doorway. "He must stand alone, apart from us. Our paths may be inextricably intertwined, but… they can never unite."

Zaveid snorted. "And _you_ know the world is worth more than any one life," he retorted, though his words seemed addressed more to Mayvin. "Save yourself and leave the rest to die, and you won't be long after. Sacrifice yourself to save the rest, and you'll live on forever in their memories." He shook his head, smiling ruefully. "Easy for me to say, I know—I got no oath to break. But if the price of salvation is one life… how could anybody refuse?"

Rose frowned up at Dezel in search of illumination, but her seraph looked just as confused as her; Mayvin, however, nodded once in comprehension. "Believe me," he told Zaveid in a low and somewhat bitter voice, "I understand." He turned around to bow to Zenrus (who nodded in evident respect), his hands forming some ancient sign of reverence, and his eyes flickered briefly between Rose and Dezel before closing altogether.

"I'll be waiting for you in Lohgrin," repeated Mayvin, turning his back. "Until then, I can only pray that the world stays intact long enough for you to grasp what you've done to it." And with those ominous words, he departed at last, closing the door behind him with a sense of hopeless finality.

It was a long time before any of them stirred, breathless in the wake of Mayvin's warning… but eventually Sorey grimaced and turned back to the firepit, raising a hand to the back of his head awkwardly. "H-hi, Gramps," he managed, much more timidly than usual, and Rose realized with a jolt that Zenrus had been watching them for some time. Evidently at a loss for what to do with himself, Mikleo shifted uncertainly in place as Sorey began in a rush, "I'm glad you're sa—"

" _Shepherd_ ," interrupted Zenrus coldly, getting to his feet (impressive despite his short stature), and Sorey flinched at the sound of his title rather than his name: Mikleo winced sympathetically, bracing himself. "How dare you show your face here after what you've done!" he roared, taking a stilted step forward, and Rose could not keep herself from shivering violently at his fury: Dezel pulled her closer to him, and she took strength from his touch.

"Do you know how many will die—how many _have_ died—because of your foolishness?" demanded Zenrus, taking a step forward, and everyone else in the room took a step back… Dezel included, and Rose with him. "Since that dragon awakened, so many humans and seraphim have succumbed to the malevolence that _if_ anyone survives this mess, your successors will have to spend centuries cleaning it up!"

"Gr-Gramps," faltered Mikleo, pulling Sorey into a fiercely protective half-brotherly embrace, which might have had more of an impact had he been a little taller… but Rose guessed it was the thought that counted. "Please, listen to us. The duty of the Shepherd—"

"Don't interrupt me," shot back Zenrus. "Duty means nothing if you have not the foresight to fulfill it." He turned back to Sorey, taking a draft from his pipe. "It might have been better if you had never taken up the burden of the Shepherd," he told them bitterly, and Lailah's breath caught as if in pain.

Sorey's eyes turned glassy an instant before he squeezed them shut; he brought his hand up to his heart as though wounded—and Alisha stepped forward just as Rose opened her mouth to disrespect her elders. Nobody hurt Sorey, not even Zenrus; she'd show _him_ fury… but not if Alisha got there first. "That's not true!" exclaimed the princess, clenching her fists passionately. "Sorey was only trying to help. He never meant for this to happen!"

"All of us thought we were doing the right thing," agreed Rose somewhat hoarsely, nodding once in Alisha's direction, "because all anybody ever told us was that the Shepherd was supposed to kill the Lord of Calamity! So if you need someone to blame for our _lack of foresight_ , I can point you in the right direction." She raised her trembling finger to indicate Zenrus, ignoring Mikleo's murmur of alarm. Even if she wanted to, Rose couldn't stop her case now.

Clearing her throat, summoning anger to lend her strength, she ranted on: "You know ten times as much as the rest of us combined, _Gramps_ , so if you're going to talk about our foolishness, you'd better give me a damn good reason why you decided not to say anything about it before now." Standing on one hip, she illustrated her point with acrid air quotes. "And if you tell me you took an oath, so help me Dezel, I'm going to shove those stupid stilts right up your—"

" _Rose_ ," snapped Mikleo, though his voice was choked with worry, and she halted: there was an incredibly tense pause. Rose had gotten so used to the constant rain that such complete silence was deafening. Or maybe that was just the thunder in the distance, thought Rose… and remembered suddenly that her fellow humans had considered Zenrus the god of storms a millennium or two ago. The true weight of her actions crashed down on her shoulders like bucketfuls of icy water, and she shivered, the realization sapping her strength.

Oops. If she hadn't been in hell a few days ago, she'd be there shortly.

To her astonishment, Alisha nodded once in her direction as though in agreement before stepping forward to speak. "Th-they say to err is human, but to forgive is divine," she stammered, looking up at Zenrus with an effort. "We may have made a mistake"—Rose noted with some surprise that she counted herself among them, despite having had nothing to do with their error—"but we're doing everything in our power to make things right!"

Mikleo heaved a long and lingering sigh, though it sounded more relieved than anything else; Rose guessed he appreciated her lack of threats and insults. (Possibly due to her status as a princess, Alisha _was_ undeniably better with diplomacy.) "I know it doesn't excuse everything that's happened," he added, "but it's all we can do. So please… listen."

"They already know exactly how badly they screwed up," put in Zaveid, crossing his arms; Rose found herself staring at the fire, only half paying attention. "I know, because I challenged them personally, and felt their strength of character for myself. So, take it from me—you can definitely spare them the lecture."

Zenrus took another contemplative draft from his pipe, sighing smoke. "Get out of my house," he decided finally, though to everyone's silent relief, he no longer seemed quite so irate. "If there is to be a tomorrow, we'll talk then, once our tempers have cooled." As he turned pointedly towards Rose, she felt herself flush; she _really_ shouldn't have insulted him to his face like that, especially since they did genuinely need his help…

Edna vanished into her vessel, her expression stony, as Mikleo herded his shellshocked Shepherd towards the door; Alisha supported him tenderly from the other side. As Rose made to follow them, Lailah shook her head, and she stopped short; Zaveid crossed his arms, leaning against the doorway, and he seemed to be the only one brave enough to look Zenrus full in the face.

"Our Rose may be more Spitfire than Squire, but her heart's in the right place," he remarked eventually, glancing over at her quickly, and Rose narrowly resisted the urge to bury her face in Dezel's jacket out of embarrassment, like a little girl. "She's angry for the same reasons you are, so don't blast her to kingdom come just yet, hey?" he added, giving Zenrus the 'I'm-watching-you' signal and sauntering out the door.

Zenrus seemed unsurprised by Zaveid's irreverence, and actually half-smiled when he failed to shut the door behind him. Rose wondered fleetingly if they'd met before; but all her confidence had ebbed away, and she no longer had the courage to ask. "Lailah," began Zenrus. "This must be important, if you're still here." There was a question in his voice.

Lailah cleared her throat delicately in response. "I know it's a lot to ask after… everything that's happened," she murmured, with a reproachful look in Rose's direction, "but this may be crucial to saving the world."

"Speak, then," Zenrus invited her, gesturing to the fire and sitting down with odd grace; Rose exchanged a glance with Dezel—or at least, she assumed she was exchanging a glance, since it was kind of hard to tell through his bangs—before cautiously kneeling next to the fire, opposite Zenrus. Dezel and Lailah sat next to her, across from one another.

"Rose is a Squire, as you know, and she is this seraph's vessel," began Lailah, nodding to Dezel. "However, their pact is one-sided, and the focus is unknown. I've forbidden Dezel from dwelling within her to minimize the effects, but… well," she sighed, searching for words. "He recently had to take control of her body in order to save her life, and she's still very weak from the encounter."

As Lailah spoke, Zenrus gazed through the fire to examine Rose carefully. It was not a pleasant sensation; she may have become accustomed to being examined by seraphim whose eyes she could not see, but she felt as though he was turning over her thoughts like stones. "How did this happen?" asked Zenrus, finally returning his eyes to Lailah and his pipe to his mouth. "Spare no details."

"Back when… the dragon… awakened," faltered Lailah, talking around her oath with some difficulty, "Sorey and Rose were separated in the confusion. Dezel was Sorey's Sub Lord at the time, but he followed Rose instead, so I broke his pact out of safety concerns."

"And why did you follow the Squire instead of your Shepherd?" asked Zenrus, turning his invisible gaze on Dezel.

There was such a long pause that Rose wondered whether Dezel would respond at all, but Zenrus seemed content to wait, and it occurred to her for the first time that seraphim had a vastly different experience of time than she; how very long they lived in comparison to humans! "She… used to be my vessel," muttered Dezel finally, evidently giving up hope of outlasting the elder. "Before I met Sorey. She's… much more important to me… than the Shepherd."

His words were halting, but Rose knew better than to think he'd lie to a seraph like Zenrus, and it certainly added up with what he'd told Zaveid; she chanced a wan smile of gratitude, or perhaps encouragement, in his direction. Dezel either could not or did not return it, however; his attention remained focused on the elder.

Lailah didn't seem to know how to respond, either, so she settled for rushing onwards: "E-even though his Divine Artifact was still in Sorey's possession," she continued, somewhat more awkwardly, "Dezel was still able to form his current pact with Rose. They could even enact the armatus outside the Shepherd's domain."

"Is this true?" asked Zenrus sharply, and this time, he seemed to be speaking to _her_. Rose jumped, surprised, and gestured uncertainly towards herself; Zenrus nodded once, and though his expression was serious, it was not unkind. Forgiveness truly was divine, thought Rose, with some measure of relief.

"Y-yes, sir," she told him tentatively, managing to muster a modicum of respect in a vain attempt to make up for her earlier offense, "but… something seemed to be wrong with it. My wings looked different, and after Dezel left me, I felt weak. Lightheaded." She spoke slowly, hesitantly, trying to find the right words to explain; but it didn't seem to matter.

"But the strangest thing is, by the time we all reunited," added Lailah, "Dezel had so thoroughly moved on from his Divine Artifact that it now serves as the foundation for Zaveid's Sub Lord pact. Which means…" She trailed off significantly, waiting for Zenrus to ask the right question.

Fortunately for her, he rose to the occasion admirably. "What did you swear on, when you made your pact with Rose?" he inquired intently, puffing pensively on his pipe. "I'm sure Lailah has already told you that if you detached from your Artifact, something stronger has taken its place as focus. That is no easy feat."

"I didn't swear on anything," answered Dezel shortly, folding his arms. "It was an accident."

Zenrus gave a single chuckle at the terseness of his response. "Like vessel, like seraph, I see," he returned tartly, and glanced thoughtfully between Dezel and Rose. "If you don't know your focus, let me see the armatus, and I can tell you." Rose's eyes widened, and Dezel seemed about to protest, but Zenrus raised his voice as he continued, "I will ensure that neither of you suffers any adverse effects."

As Dezel heaved a sigh, a breeze wrapped warmly around Rose with his breath—and as much as he used it to gauge her mood, she found that it told her just as much about him. The wind was restless, worried, as he awaited her signal: a smirk tugged at her lips as she reflected that he was oddly submissive, for someone whom had declared not a week before that consent meant nothing where control of her body was concerned.

Rose got to her feet before she had arrived at a conscious decision, and Dezel followed suit; with Zenrus to support them, they would have nothing to fear. **"Lukeim Yurlin,"** she murmured, and he whispered the word with her: a shiver ran through her body as their essences combined.

Dezel's presence in such a calm setting offered a far gentler warmth than the usual heat of battle; his true name spoken so softly in unison felt almost like a prayer. At the sight of their wings, made of light, Lailah gasped and raised her hands to her mouth in apparent amazement; Zenrus merely gazed at their form somberly, his pipe clamped contemplatively in his mouth.

They stood there under his careful scrutiny for some time, unsure whether anything further was expected of them… but just as Rose was about to ask if it was safe for them to separate, Zenrus finally gestured for them to move apart, and Dezel's presence left her as soon as he gave the signal. "What does it mean?" he asked stonily, crossing his arms, and did not take his seat again.

"It means," responded Zenrus solemnly, "that you swore on an emotion."

Rose stared in shock, and even Lailah seemed surprised; of all the things she'd expected him to tell them, that certainly wasn't it. "Is that… even possible?" she managed, glancing over at Dezel, but he seemed just as astonished. Oh joy; another mystery to sort-of-solve. This was getting out of hand.

"Yes, but such a course is far more dangerous than I anticipated," replied Zenrus darkly. "By his strength alone is your pact upheld; if your connection remains one-sided, it means you do not share the emotion upon which it was founded." He brandished his pipe at Rose with peculiar intensity, and she almost flinched. "You're in a precarious position, lady Squire."

A question appeared unbidden in her mind, and she bowed her head, knowing it would be painful to ask aloud—though she couldn't say she understood why. "Can't we just… break it, then?" she mumbled, unable to look at Dezel as she forced out the words. "I mean, if we're in any kind of danger, wouldn't it be easier to keep ourselves to ourselves till we _do_ have a focus…?"

"Not without severe consequences for you both," returned Zenrus, aggravatingly matter-of-factly, "because the focus, whatever it is, isn't tangible enough to separate from your identities." His attention lit on Dezel and did not move, and Lailah followed suit; Rose, too, finally turned her eyes apprehensively towards her seraph.

Dezel let out a long breath, shaking his head as he realized a response was expected of him. "If the focus is an emotion, there's only one thing it could be," he muttered, pulling his hat down lower over his eyes. "I need Rose to help me avenge my friend. She's more than just my vessel; she's my weapon, too. It's probably… my desire for revenge."

"If that's the case," replied Zenrus, his voice edged with a sigh, "you must not take that revenge until after you find a way to seal the bond more securely. Otherwise," he added warningly, "it will kill her, or worse. You must prioritize your vessel as well as yourself, and whatever you do, you _must not_ let go of that feeling." He got to his feet once more, staring each of them down in turn. "Do you understand?"

Though Dezel nodded curtly, reluctantly, Rose's eyes widened in alarm as she staggered backwards. How could her life—her purity—depend on Dezel _not_ getting his revenge? She'd sworn to help him! "Yeah, um, about that," she stammered, running a hand restlessly through her hair. "How _are_ we supposed to seal that bond? Do you have, like, a spare Divine Artifact, or something?" she added desperately.

It was a vain hope, she knew, if Zenrus hadn't mentioned it already; and sure enough, the elder only shook his head. "No," he answered, bowing his head. "But even if Dezel's Sub Lord pact has been dissolved, you are still Sorey's Squire. He may yet be able to bind you as seraph and vessel." Rose opened her mouth to reiterate her original question of _how_ , but Zenrus only continued, "And, if you cannot find a suitable Divine Artifact, a pair of pact rings should suffice."

"Pact… rings," repeated Lailah under her breath, her eyes fixed on the fire as if trying to remember something.

Zenrus, fortunately, took it upon himself to elaborate. "Two powerful magic items, each of them possessing about half the spiritual energy of a Divine Artifact," he clarified. "And as rare as Artifacts are, pact rings may be said to be rarer still. Many sets have been forged through the ages, but several have been lost by now, and they must be a matching set for them to function as intended."

"Oh—like wedding rings!" exclaimed Lailah gleefully, clapping her hands and startling Rose with the soft but sudden sound: she and Dezel glanced at one another out the corner of their eyes before averting their gazes awkwardly, scooting subtly away from one another as they did so. That was a comparison Rose could have gone the rest of her life without making… but at least it made Zenrus chuckle.

"Yes," he remarked reminiscently, "humanity's marriage ritual was indeed inspired by the pact rings." A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "A little ironic, given that pact rings were created to be less enduring than an actual contract."

" _Less_ enduring?" echoed Rose, more and more confused. Explanations were supposed to _explain_ things, right? Not make them more complex? "Then why…" she began, but trailed off with a faint growl, unsure how to frame any of her many questions.

"Unlike Divine Artifacts, pact rings are not inherently symbolic of a vessel-seraph connection," explained Zenrus delicately. "They actually preceded Artifacts by some centuries. Their true purpose is to grant a human seraphic abilities without becoming a vessel. A pair of pact rings can function as a power transfer, even at great distances—potentially against the seraph's will."

"How can that be?" gasped Lailah, resting her hands over her heart and gazing up at Zenrus with troubled eyes. "A bond like that… it should be impossible."

"So it should be, if the connection is established by a sacred and mutual vow; but this one is confirmed simply by wearing the rings," responded Zenrus heavily. "The seraph cannot remove their ring unless its fellow is destroyed, or unless the corresponding human removes it. There are rumors that this manipulation is one of the reasons seraphim stopped appearing to humans—but even I am not old enough to say for sure."

Dezel bared his teeth. "I'd rather die than wear a ring like that," he growled, crossing his arms and jerking his head aside in something of a shudder. "Even if I trust Rose, I'll outlive her by thousands of years. And if it falls into the wrong hands…" He didn't need to finish the sentence; Rose grimaced at the thought that someone should force him to use his power for evil purposes.

"Peace," chided Zenrus. "Pact rings are also capable of serving as a focus for a legitimate contract. As long as the pact is reforged in the rings' image, there should be no negative side effects for either of you." He offered them a small but genuine smile, and Dezel visibly relaxed. "Furthermore, each ring knows where its twin is—so if you find one, you should be able to find the other."

As he spoke, Rose's head spun with all this new and exhausting information, and she stifled a yawn with difficulty… but this did not go unnoticed by any of her three companions. Lailah got to her feet as Zenrus continued more coolly, "Now, _if_ there's nothing else, I must return to my meditation. Maintaining my blessing requires some concentration in the face of malevolence like this. But fortunately for me," he added with a swift glance heavenward, "the situation has at least stabilized."

"Thank you for your time, Zenrus," Lailah responded courteously, bowing with ethereal grace, and Rose hastily followed suit, albeit much more clumsily; Dezel merely tipped his hat. "We won't trespass any longer on your most generous hospitality," she added over her shoulder, escorting Rose out somewhat more forcefully than was necessary, perhaps as an admonition for her earlier rudeness; she was too exhausted, both mentally and physically, to resist her.

As Rose tripped over the threshold with a muffled squeak, Dezel reached forward to catch her arm and pull her up again—but he wasn't facing her; he hadn't done so since Lailah's wedding-ring comment, she realized. And, as he put his arm around her shoulders to support her (and she slid hers automatically around his torso), Zenrus hummed faintly: Rose glanced hesitantly backwards to find his face framed in a perfect circle of smoke.

* * *

 _Longer, more informative chapter! I really hope this doesn't read like some sort of encyclopedia entry, but questions demand answers, and few enough characters are capable of giving them that I gotta make the most of what I have. Especially since update frequency has slowed to an excruciating crawl.  
_

 _ **N:**_ _I'd love to explore Mikleo and Zaveid's characters a little further beyond the usual "butt of the joke" dynamic they have going, even considering canon interactions. This chapter and the next will hopefully be little steps forward in Zaveid's "serious mode" characterization, which he definitely deserved but never really received in the game._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Yeah, overprotective's one word for it… I can never decide whether or not Dezel's behavior towards Rose is creepy or endearing. I mean, I'll ship it to hell and back, but their entire dynamic is kinda… borderline, sometimes._


	20. Chapter 19: White Wishes

Rose may have been ready to fall over, but any exhaustion she felt seemed to dissipate as soon as Dezel carried her through Sorey's door (having picked her up halfway down the hill). Sorey and Alisha stood on one side of the room, Zaveid on the other, and Mikleo and Edna midway between the two… and they were all bristling. Though the Shepherd's eyes flicked briefly towards his doorway, he did not greet his comrades, and that was how Rose knew this was serious.

Instead, he addressed Zaveid. "What are you talking about?" he demanded, his green eyes flashing in angry alarm, and Alisha nodded in resolute agreement. "Oaths? Sacrifice? Nobody else is going to die! I won't allow it!"

But Zaveid only shook his head, smiling ruefully. "You've been reading too many fairy tales," he told him, crossing his arms. "Maybe you've heard the one about the young Shepherd whose princely friend became the Lord of Calamity? Does that ring any bells?" Except for Dezel, the others all nodded hesitantly; but Rose shook her head. Brad had told her plenty of stories, but she didn't really remember that one.

Zaveid blinked, apparently surprised at her tacit confusion, but answered as quickly as if he had been planning to do so anyway. "He wasn't in his right mind anymore, so the Shepherd turned a blind eye to crimes that would've gotten anyone else executed," he explained bitterly. "He faced the prince on the battlefield many times, but he couldn't bring himself to harm him… even when he corrupted and absorbed the lords of the land that protected each of the three nations."

"And the Shepherd just _forgave_ him?" asked Rose incredulously, thinking of Konan with a shudder of revulsion. She'd had one too many experiences with hellionized princes, and if this one had gone unpunished… A motion in her peripheral vision distracted her; Lailah paced over to stand next to Sorey, gauging Zaveid's expression warily through narrowed eyes.

Zaveid nodded in disgust, and Rose almost forgot what her question had been before grimacing as she remembered. "After that, even the Shepherd's Prime Lord couldn't purify him—but rather than kill the prince, they sought a way to save him instead. So naturally, he left his people to fend off the hellions themselves, while he chased his friend all the way to the center of the earth."

"That's a pretty devoted friend," muttered Edna, swinging her parasol around her finger boredly as Mikleo stepped back. "Are you _sure_ they weren't lovers?"

"That's… open to debate," admitted Zaveid, rubbing the back of his head (more thoughtfully than awkwardly). " _Anyway_ , in the end, the Prime Lord tried to purify the Lord of Calamity with her own life force—but the Shepherd didn't want her to die, either. Rather than let her fulfill her duty, he risked becoming a hellion himself by taking all that malevolence into himself to purify it."

Dezel gave a sudden, derisive bark of laughter, shifting Rose's weight on his back; only then did she realize with a jolt that he hadn't put her down yet, but far be it from her to interrupt him mid-thought. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," he growled. "So he could have become the new Lord of Calamity because he was trying to _save_ the old one?"

"Yeah," responded Zaveid, shaking his head. "Except, according to the fairy tale, he succeeded. In real life, that amount of malevolence would kill him, or worse." He shook his head exasperatedly. "Best case scenario, his life force neutralizes it, and he's reborn as a seraph. But either way," he rushed on before Rose could ask about that, "the lords of the land were released more or less intact, but the malevolence that had taken root in their domains was… less easily undone."

"Did it ever get fixed?" asked Rose, scowling.

Zaveid snorted sarcastically. "Maybe, maybe not," he shrugged. "Hard to say. According to the story, the prince returned to his castle and retook the throne as if nothing had happened—and even though he spent the rest of his life trying to atone for his misdeeds, it was a self-inflicted punishment. Nobody _else_ ever called him traitor, because all's well that ends well, right?"

Rose blinked, taken aback by his bitter cynicism; she may have suspected that he was less shallow than he acted, but _this_ kind of depth was… unexpected. "Basically," he summarized, "by going to such lengths to save his friend, the Shepherd abandoned everyone else. And by taking too much upon himself in the end, he risked destroying the world altogether." He shook his head. "Arguably, it would have been wiser for him to have killed the prince as soon as he fell beyond the reach of purification."

Sorey's expression darkened, like storm clouds rolling over sunny skies; Alisha glanced at him anxiously. "So the moral of your version is to strike first, and ask questions later?" he asked angrily, taking a step forward, and Lailah rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I can't accept that. No way. That kind of thinking is what got us into this mess!"

"The moral of my version is to consider how your actions affect _everyone_ , not just the folks you know," corrected Zaveid tersely. "In the grand scheme of things, your friends are no more or less important than anybody else. Everyone is expendable, not just the usual faceless strangers, if their death will change more than their life."

"Why all this death talk?" demanded Mikleo, exchanging an unreadable glance with Edna. "We're in no more or less danger than we've been in the whole time. If anything, we're safer than ever now that we're in Elysia! There's no reason for you to get all morbid on us _now_ of all times."

"Seriously," agreed Edna, shouldering her parasol; as the moment shattered, Dezel finally stirred, carrying Rose into the adjacent room and standing at the foot of his bed. Recognizing her cue, Rose threw herself backwards to land spread-eagled on Sorey's thankfully soft mattress. "This 'serious mode' stuff is weirding me out," continued Edna, drawing her attention reluctantly back to the situation at hand.

Zaveid shook his head slowly, burying his face in his hands, as Rose sat up with some difficulty to observe the conversation. "I don't expect any of you to understand," he mumbled, his voice slightly muffled. "All of you are still young, so you've got a lot to learn. I'm just reminding you that this _isn't_ a fairy tale, and in the real world, a single life isn't always too high a price to pay for salvation."

"Remember how you told Gramps to spare us the lecture?" snapped Edna, opening her parasol and twirling it threateningly. "Did you just want to do it again, or what? After all, it was _so_ fun the first time."

"Believe it or not," retorted Zaveid through grit teeth, "I'm not trying to lecture you; I'm trying to deliver a warning." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, warm wind washing over the room. "I'm not telling you how you screwed up, because you know that already. I'm telling you how you're _going_ to screw up."

"And how would you know something like that?" returned Lailah skeptically.

"Because I know history, and I know you!" exclaimed Zaveid, pointing at Sorey almost accusatorily. "You're going to go through the rest of your existence trying to save everyone to make up for the mistake that cost so many lives, and that impossible mission will be the death of you—and a _lot_ of others. I've seen it before, and this time won't be any different unless you make it so!"

Sorey's eyes widened, but Alisha put one hand on her hip, looking Zaveid up and down coldly. "A mission as noble as saving lives can hardly be considered _screwing up_ ," she told him, and Rose might have smiled at those words on her lips if the situation had not been so serious.

"Oh, you'd be surprised, Princess," laughed Zaveid darkly. "Some people can't be saved. Some people don't even _want_ to be saved. And if you focus too much on trying anyway, you just might lose hope instead." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "If you're going to save the world, you'll need to make a lot of tough decisions." He narrowed his scarlet eyes at Sorey in a clear challenge. "And people. Are going. To die."

The Shepherd bowed his head, glowering at the floorboards, and said nothing. "A Shepherd's actions have more consequences than any of you can imagine," continued Zaveid, more gently. "That's why there's usually more than one, in times as turbulent as these. They can help balance each other out, and such."

"More than one Shepherd," mused Alisha, gazing at the fire, and Rose stifled a yawn. Zaveid had made his point; the rest of this conversation served no purpose, except to exhaust its participants. (She'd heard quite enough perplexing exposition from Zenrus already, thank you.) "Imagine…"

"Lucky for us," added Zaveid, glancing briefly back at Rose, "a certain somebody has high enough resonance to make up at least a little of the difference, but you're still carrying a lot more than you should." He tossed a playful grin in Sorey's direction, which Mikleo immediately smacked down with a scowl. "Shoulders as skinny as yours, it's nothing short of a miracle you haven't collapsed yet."

"Oh, goodness, look at the time!" exclaimed Lailah suddenly, gazing concernedly at Rose; apparently her exhaustion was not of the subtle variety. At her words, both Squires glanced around automatically in search of some sort of timepiece, but found none; there was probably little need for a clock in a place like Elysia. "There's another long journey ahead of us tomorrow. Now, off to bed with all of you! Chop-chop!"

Accentuating her words with a couple quick claps and a somewhat strained smile, Lailah shooed her Sub Lords into Sorey, ignoring their exchanges of exasperated glances; Alisha blinked in surprise as the seraphim vanished. "Isn't this _Sorey's_ house?" she asked disbelievingly, turning her head to look at him—only to find him obediently rolling out his cot, avoiding meeting her eyes.

Rose sighed and flung herself backwards on Sorey's bed to stare blankly at the ceiling, able to fend off her fatigue no longer. She felt Dezel's weight settle at the edge of the bed, and his breeze washed over her, but she did not look at him, her thoughts drifting elsewhere. It couldn't be right for Sorey to be the only Shepherd in an age like this, but what more could she do to lighten the load…?

Her thoughts seemed sluggish, and she clenched her teeth in concentration, trying to coerce them into cooperating. But the more she tried to grasp the half-formed thoughts which flitted in and out of the forefront of her consciousness like _shae monyuroze_ (ha ha, very funny, Dezel), the less she was able to recall what she had been thinking about to begin with.

Having thoroughly lost her train of thought by this point, trying to remember everything she'd come so close to realizing mere moments before made her heart even heavier in frustration. Something about Shepherds, she thought hazily, but she could stay awake no longer: she didn't even remember having closed her eyes before she sank into slumber.

* * *

Rose had never set much store by sleeping on sticky situations in the past—but this morning was apparently an exception. Even before she opened her eyes, the solution shone all too clear in her mind, like the sun she hadn't seen for far too long: if Rose had high enough resonance to offset Sorey's suffering as a Squire, maybe she could bear more of his burden by becoming a second Shepherd _herself_ …!

The very thought hastened her heartbeat so that she was sure Dezel would hear it; but as she pulled herself out of her head and back into her body, she heard him snoring softly several feet away, and the winds were still. Realizing that she'd never be able to go back to sleep while such a shining possibility still possessed her, Rose resigned herself to wakefulness, and reluctantly opened her eyes to find the world washed in pale gray, pouring through Sorey's skylights.

It couldn't be too long after dawn, she reasoned, or the others wouldn't still be sleeping; how unusual was it that she was the first one awake? Excluding Edna, Rose hated mornings more than anyone else she knew; but honestly, it could have been the middle of the night for all she cared. She had an idea that could change the world, and she had to do _something_ about it, because she knew herself well enough to know she'd never get any rest if she didn't.

It helped that Rose already knew what she had to do, and where she had to go to do it. If they were going to leave Elysia soon and go off on a wild gem chase, she may as well get her answers while the getting was good. Sitting up slowly, Rose strapped on her spare set of knives—dull, but functional enough—and got to her feet as quietly as possible, grateful that she hadn't bothered undressing last night.

She glanced over at Dezel to find him sprawled at the foot of her bed and, for a fleeting moment, entertained the thought of waking him; but she shook her head soon enough, a somewhat rueful smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. He seemed so much more peaceful in slumber than he ever was when he was conscious… and, sad as that was, it certainly didn't make her want to wake him any more.

Gods willing, Rose wouldn't need him to bail her out; she'd have to trust Zenrus to hold off the hellions, at least till she got to his house. Gathering her resolution, she stepped carefully over Dezel's legs, half-expecting him to awaken at the vibration of the floorboards under her feet… but he breathed as deeply as ever, and she sighed in relief.

Sorey stirred as she sneaked by, and she tensed briefly; but he only sighed in his sleep and shifted his position slightly. Alisha, lying across from him, remained as still and dignified as ever, and no seraphim emerged to tell her to stay: smiling faintly, Rose moved in swift silence to the door, opened it just as quietly, and walked out.

* * *

 _Here's another chapter for you, somewhat shorter than usual; but it would seem that we can either have quick updates, or long chapters, and the former was easier this time around. In other news, get the (admittedly rather obvious) reference and win an internet crablette!_

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Yeah, huzzah for the line between fiction and reality! I was just discussing that the other day, actually—the contrast between the kinds of things I ship and what I actually want for myself. The differences are staggering._

 _ **Chibi Torra:**_ _Oh, no, you're not coming across as creepy or rude in the slightest! I always get so excited whenever people tell me what they think of my writing, and I'm genuinely flattered that you enjoy it so much! Compliments on my characterization mean the world to me, too, so I'm overjoyed that you put my interactions on the same level as canon in terms of believability. Thank you for all the well-wishes; I'll put them to good use! (And for your praise, here's a coincidental reward in the form of a new chapter!)_


	21. Chapter 20: Mouthful

"Well, if it isn't the lady Squire," remarked Zenrus, raising his bushy eyebrows with an expression that was not quite surprise, and Rose wavered uncertainly in the doorway before closing the door reluctantly behind her. Somehow, his house felt far too enclosed for her liking; she glanced around automatically in search of exits—a habit she'd developed as an assassin—but found no alternate routes. "What can I do for you?" he continued, crossing his arms.

Rose took a deep breath, forcing herself to look Zenrus full in the face despite her earlier transgressions; she couldn't afford to back down now. "I want to know whether it's possible for me to become a Shepherd," she told him resolutely. "And, if I can, whether it'd hurt Sorey. I mean, I've heard it's partially because of my support as a Squire that his pact with Alisha isn't… y'know… blinding him."

Rose shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably, sighing lightly as he seemed to be waiting for her to say more. "I—I don't want to abandon Sorey," she continued, "and I know Dezel can't purify hellions like Lailah, but…" She trailed off uncertainly. In the full light of wakefulness, she was no longer sure what she was trying to say; did she really want this for herself, or was she just entertaining another idiotic idea that had seduced her in the night?

"Preposterous," returned Zenrus, almost chuckling, and Rose blinked in surprise at the interjection. But before she could ask what he meant, he continued, "Purification is not an inherent ability. Like armatization, it is the use of a seraph's powers in tandem with the Shepherd's—and it is part of the pact that joins them." He gave her a small smile. "I could be wrong, but my impression is that Dezel's powers have been augmented due to his blindness…"

"Oh!" exclaimed Rose, inadvertently interrupting. "You mean like Lailah's oath?" she asked, but even as she spoke, she clapped her hand over her mouth, feeling herself turn red. Of course she didn't mean any further disrespect after yesterday, but her filter was weak enough without adding the earliness of the hour to the mix.

Zenrus nodded once, and might have squinted beneath his eyebrows. "Yes," he told her, just a bite of impatience in his voice as Rose ducked her head in shame. "Instead of simply forbidding oneself from undertaking a certain action or mentioning a specific subject, the oaths of old were based on sacrificing a more… _tangible_ aspect of oneself. Such as sight, as in Dezel's case."

Rose nodded mutely, resolving not to speak again until she was certain Zenrus had said all he needed. He seemed to appreciate this, and his tone softened slightly as he continued, "In other words, he is capable of serving as your Prime Lord, should you choose such a path."

When he gave no sign of further speech, Rose mumbled her hesitant assent, and Zenrus seemed satisfied: he gestured for her to sit across from him, and (obeying in a hurry) she realized that _of course_ it wasn't that simple. "As for your other worries," he went on, "I can also offer you some reassurance. Your title as Squire is not what supports the Shepherd, but rather, your domain."

"So… as long as we keep traveling together," responded Rose tentatively, after a brief pause while she ensured that she would not cut him off again, "he'll be okay? _They'll_ be okay?" she amended immediately, wondering if Alisha would experience anything amiss in his stead. If Zenrus's answer was yes, so was hers, she thought; but as usual, too much of her thinking showed on her face. (What she wouldn't give for her Scattered Bones mask…)

Zenrus nodded hesitantly, regarding her expression intently, and she could not look at him, opting instead to fix her gaze on the fire. "Ultimately," he sighed, "becoming a Shepherd is a personal decision, but doing so involves adapting to a purpose in life which is _not_ of your own choosing… and may yet prove hopeless." He turned his head to face her, pointing his pipe at her almost accusatorily. "You should act as you see fit—but you should speak with your companions first, because if I know my grandsons, they will have strong opinions on the matter."

"Oh, I'm counting on it," replied Rose, giving him a smile she knew full well was unconvincing, and bowed hastily; getting to her feet, she spun herself around to face the door and approached, her thoughts circling like miniature dragons around her final decision. She had no need to consult with her comrades if becoming a Shepherd would do them no harm; in this case, as with so many others, it would be far easier to ask forgiveness than permission. The only one she'd really need to talk to would be…

Speak of the seraph: the door burst open before her, and Dezel exploded into the room, panting from his uphill sprint. " _Rose_!" he exclaimed, marching forward and taking her by the shoulders. "Don't run off like that! Are you all right?" he added more quietly, though still gruffly, almost as an afterthought; she nodded apprehensively, unable to look at him.

Having been concentrating on her latest bright idea to become a Shepherd, Rose hadn't had a great deal of time to consider their incomplete pact; but as she observed Dezel standing before her, Zenrus's revelations from last evening came flooding back into her mind like an icy river. Until they sealed their connection, her very existence would keep him from fulfilling his greatest desire…

"Let's just go," sighed Dezel eventually, shaking his head, and turned his back on her, readjusting his hat. "Everyone's wondering where you are… again. The last thing we need is a missing Squire, especially at a time like this." His voice carried an undercurrent of relief, but Rose couldn't hear it very well over the disapproval, and almost flinched. She wouldn't be surprised if the only reason he kept carrying her around was in the interest of self-preservation; Zenrus had commanded it, after all.

The elder cleared his throat from behind her, and she remembered his presence abruptly, jumping and turning to face her gracious host once more. "You have a thoughtful seraph looking out for you," he told her, veiled amusement in the folds of his ancient voice. "Not everyone is so fortunate. You'd do well to remember that."

Rose blinked in surprise; had he been able to read her thoughts so easily? But she braved a smile nonetheless, hoping (more than believing) that he was right. "He never lets me forget," she assured him after a brief hesitation, slipping past Dezel. "Thanks, Gramps," she added over her shoulder, and her seraph steered her swiftly outside, shutting the door behind them.

* * *

"There you are!" exclaimed Sorey, as soon as Dezel pushed Rose back into his house, but at least he didn't tackle-hug her this time—though his fingers twitched restlessly as though he longed to do so. "Where _were_ you, exactly?" he added, tilting his head with a frankly adorable frown.

"Oh, just going for a walk," Rose told him airily, before she remembered that Dezel knew the truth; but thankfully, for whatever reason, he didn't even look at her twice. She supposed she shouldn't have worried; if there was one thing he excelled at, for better or for worse, it was keeping secrets.

"Yeah, because it's _gorgeous_ out," returned Edna, rolling her eyes and gesturing at the dull gray seeping through the skylight.

"Regardless, you shouldn't have left without telling anyone," Alisha told her, narrowing her eyes, and Rose sobered quickly as the princess crossed her arms. They may have been making progress, since Alisha hadn't been openly antagonistic ever since she'd saved her life at the lakebed… but she was still awhile away from gaining her trust, apparently.

(Until she noticed a barely perceptible flutter of Alisha's eyelashes, and Rose realized that she had just drawn the conversation away from where she'd been.)

"I didn't want to wake any of you," she protested, widening her eyes and using her partial honesty to sway their perception of the whole. "You all needed your rest. But _anyway_ ," she added, raising her voice over Lailah's protests that Rose needed her rest more than any of them, "can we maybe get some breakfast? If I don't get some food in me soon, I'll roast Zaveid over that fire."

She shot a teasing glare in his direction to find him raising an overdramatic hand to his forehead, scarlet eyes gleaming with relief and mischief in equal measure; in light of last night's story and moral, Rose found herself surprised and pleased that he was feeling sportive enough to take a joke. Judging from the reproachful faces all around her, she was supposed to ignore him; but as far as she was concerned, the silent treatment wasn't something anyone deserved.

Not even Zaveid—though she was certain he'd find some way to make her eat her words for breakfast instead. "Fine, fine," sighed Sorey after a brief pause, shaking his head and shrugging with an attempted smile. "Anything for my Squire. Mikleo?" he added, glancing at his Sub Lord, who crossed his arms and nodded once in response as resolutely as if they were embarking on a stealth mission.

"And just where are you two going?" asked Edna, leaning on her umbrella and trying not to look too interested.

"To Gramps's," responded Mikleo promptly, his voice edged with a sigh. "For some fresher ingredients. And to _apologize_ ," he added pointedly, nudging Sorey, who swatted his arm away and winced in anticipation. Rose and Dezel stepped aside to flank the door as the two of them took their leave, Mikleo pulling Sorey by the elbow.

Zaveid, of course, wasted no time in sauntering jauntily over to Rose, resting his arm on her shoulder in a way that immediately told her she was in for trouble. "Oho," he chuckled, and Rose sighed, glancing over at him reluctantly. "So, you want a little taste of me, huh?" he asked, grinning as Dezel grit his teeth and shifted his feet into a not-quite-subtle-enough combat stance. "I thought you'd never ask!"

So this is what Rose got for including him in the conversation; no good deed went unpunished after all. "You must have missed the part where I take Alisha's spear and shove it up your ass so I can turn you over the fire," she returned, brushing his arm off her shoulder; to her satisfaction, Zaveid blanched and shuddered, immediately taking a step back.

At his reaction, Dezel actually laughed aloud; so rarely had Rose heard him do so that she wondered what that sound was for a moment before she pinpointed it, and stared at him in astonishment. "S-serves you right," he chortled eventually, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall; Edna smiled faintly as Lailah rested a reassuring hand on Zaveid's shoulder.

Alisha, meanwhile, hugged her spear almost protectively. "I don't think—" she stammered, wide-eyed in something like horror, but did not seem able to continue for several silent seconds. "That is, my spear is not to be used for such things!" she finished finally.

"Jeez, I was joking," laughed Rose, crossing her arms. "Relax. And besides," she added, turning back to Zaveid and wiggling her fingers menacingly, "even three humans probably wouldn't be able to finish the whole hunk, and seraphim don't technically need to eat… so, it'd be more efficient for me to hack off the parts I'd like to sample!"

Rose approached him, unable to suppress a grin; Lailah stepped delicately out of the way as Zaveid backed up, wild-eyed. "Looks like Rose has finally snapped," observed Edna impassively, as she cornered her quarry against a wall. At least he was bothering to play along with her in the first place, she thought; they needed a good dose of comic relief after a week like this. "What do you think we should tell Sorey when he gets back?"

"There's nothing more terrifying than a hungry woman," remarked Zaveid, eyeing Rose apprehensively as—after some deliberation while she determined what exactly she would _do_ with her target—she raised a finger, resolving to test whether or not he was ticklish. "Save me, Lailah!" he exclaimed, darting out of the way as she jabbed forward, and tried with limited success to hide behind his Prime Lord.

Of course, she stepped aside to avoid him, and Rose pursued her prey once more. So it went for several minutes: Zaveid sought shelter amid Lailah's skirts; Lailah twirled out of the way; Rose gave chase; and the other three spectators looked on with varying degrees of amusement and alarm.

"Looks like Rose is as hungry for a fight as she is for food," observed Dezel dryly, crossing his arms. If she hadn't been a little preoccupied, she would have told him that of _course_ she was; she hadn't fought anything since the battle at the bottom of the lake… but this was about as much exercise as she should do right now, since she still wasn't fully recovered.

Lailah giggled, spinning daintily out of Zaveid's way once more. "I don't think I've seen Dezel smile so much since…" she began thoughtfully, raising a hand to her chin. "Well, ever," she decided, and Rose glanced over at him to find him beaming at her—which was actually somewhat unnerving, what with those jagged teeth, but heartening nonetheless. "I think _somebody's_ relieved that you're feeling better, Rose!"

At her words, Dezel pulled his hat lower over his eyes and made a valiant effort to scowl fiercely, though the corners of his mouth still twitched upwards… and Rose let out a long sigh of contentment. Everything was as it should be after all; he didn't hate her, even though she wouldn't blame him if he did. "Way to jinx it, Lailah," remarked Edna sardonically. "Now he'll probably never smile again."

"S-sorry," returned Lailah, hanging her head—but this action did not prevent her from twirling once more out of Zaveid's path, and Rose drew herself out of her relieved thoughts to resume her chase. Alisha may have backed wordlessly against the wall some time ago, but Edna hadn't stirred from her spot by the fire, and narrowed her eyes in warning as they approached. (Yet she refused to move; she was truly as stubborn as her native element.)

As Zaveid got a little too close for her comfort, she opened her parasol sharply in his direction. Startled, or perhaps propelled backwards by some unseen force, he staggered and tripped over Rose behind him; on any ordinary day, she'd be able to roll out of the way no problem, but her reflexes weren't quite up to scratch. But just as she thought ruefully that playing with wind seraphim usually culminated in _being_ winded, and braced herself for impact—

Two cords wrapped around her wrists, and she was pulled out of Zaveid's way. Much more softly than she anticipated, she hit something like a wall, except it seemed to be breathing… and a split second later, she recognized Dezel as she turned her head to look up at him. As he glanced briefly down with a slight smile, his expression a peculiar cross between pride and relief tinged with a hint of exasperation, she returned the gesture tentatively; today was just full of surprises.

Just ask Sorey—of course he and Mikleo chose that moment to walk back through the door. Rose took a moment to evaluate the scene through their eyes, and couldn't help but laugh aloud: Zaveid on the floor with Edna's foot on his chest and umbrella at his throat? Lailah fanning her face furiously and begging the earth seraph to stand down? Dezel restraining Rose? Alisha staring between them all, open-mouthed and dumbstruck? See if either of them ever left their comrades alone together again!

"I-is now a bad time?" asked Sorey timidly, just as Mikleo hid his face in his hand and sighed, "I… don't want to know."

Dezel retracted his pendulums, and Rose stumbled a step or two forward before he rested a hand on her shoulder to steady her. Alisha, meanwhile, shook her head vigorously in response to Sorey's question, but her eyes were trained on Mikleo. "I've been standing here the entire time, and I still don't understand," she told him. "I'm just as lost as you are."

Sorey braved a smile. "All right then," he announced, holding up a large basket of cooking supplies Rose hadn't noticed, drawing all attention to himself: Edna finally heeded Lailah's frantic requests and stood down, withdrawing her umbrella… though Zaveid continued lying on the floor. "It's pancake time!"

"Awesome," responded Rose, smiling knowingly up at Dezel as he adjusted his hat in embarrassment—though seemed pleased all the same. "But… is there any bacon?" asked Rose eagerly; if she couldn't have waffles, she ought to at least have meat. It'd be more nutritious, anyway.

"N-no, sorry," returned Sorey, crestfallen, and she realized that she'd come across as a little too serious; she hadn't meant to criticize his breakfast-procuring abilities, but he continued before she could apologize and clarify. "But if there's time, I'll find some."

Rose smiled; well, if he was offering, far be it from her to refuse. "I'll hold you to that," she sighed, plopping herself unceremoniously down next to the fire; Alisha knelt across from her, just a tad more demurely. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to exhaust herself by messing around with Zaveid, reflected Rose, if they were heading out immediately; what was the new plan?

But her fellow Squire beat her to the punch: "So," began Alisha hesitantly, as Mikleo set to work making the batter; Edna, in a rare moment of helpfulness, handed him the ingredients as he measured and mixed them. "After yesterday, I'm sure our plans have changed. What's our new course of action?"

Glancing around his companions as though searching for suggestions, Sorey finally cleared his throat. "W-well," he began haltingly, "since Mayvin told us to bring him the Earthen Historia, I think our next job is to find the last remaining iris gems… and take them all to Lohgrin."

Rose bit her lip; that'd be no easy feat, but there was no need for her to say as much. They'd have to be idiots not to have guessed that already, and she didn't make a habit of traveling with idiots. "I'll see whether the Sparrowfeathers know anything," she mused instead, "but… they haven't gotten any messages to me about what _they're_ doing, so I'll just have to ask around when we hit Ladylake."

Guilt flooded her momentarily as Rose spoke of her family; she'd had so much on her mind lately that they'd barely crossed her mind, and to mention them after not having spared them so much as a thought for so long seemed… disrespectful. Like she'd let them down somehow. But they knew how to fend for themselves; they were probably fine on their own. (As her gut begged to differ, Rose told herself fervently that it was only hunger, and forced her mind back to the situation at hand.)

"Good idea," agreed Sorey, nodding in approval, and she gave a wan smile.

"I hate to say it," interjected Zaveid, sitting up, "but we should probably head for Rolance as soon as possible. The Hylander government seems pretty intent on finding their princess… and you didn't exactly make a stellar first impression, skipping out on the check like you did." He shook his head, ignoring the stony stares all around, prizing his points above their disapproval. "Given your reputation at the moment, I wouldn't be surprised if they framed you for kidnapping."

Sorey blinked in apparent surprise… but Alisha bowed her head in troubled acknowledgment, and Rose stared at her. From her behavior, she'd clearly guessed this would be the outcome… yet she hadn't confided in Sorey. Rose was torn between being impressed and furious; that little secret could have gotten him killed. But then again, if she could go behind her government's back, she shouldn't be surprised that she had done the same for them: Rose privately resolved never to underestimate Alisha again.

"So, what you're saying is that we should lie low for awhile," she managed, pulling herself out of her thoughts. "You know, fake names, normal clothes, stuff like that." Rose directed her gaze pointedly towards Sorey's distinctive cape and Alisha's knightly attire; both pairs of eyes widened, and Rose struggled to resist rolling her own. Seriously? They hadn't considered that before?

"That… could work," agreed Sorey, though he fingered his cape wistfully as he spoke; Dezel shook his head slightly in disbelief at his attachment to the cumbersome cloak. (Rose knew he was thinking of the time it had gotten caught in the thorn bush in Volgran Forest on their way to Lastonbell. Speaking of 'stellar first impressions', that had definitely been one of the reasons Dezel had taken so long to admit Sorey knew what he was doing.)

"Yes, but where am I going to find a suitable change of clothes?" asked Alisha tentatively, running her hands restlessly along the shaft of her spear. "I brought the most serviceable attire I could find, but… it's still clearly recognizable as Hylander. And before you ask, no, I didn't _have_ any other traveling outfits," she added more sharply, glancing at Rose.

She scowled at the barbs in her voice; the thought may have crossed her mind, but it hadn't been what she had been going to say. "Maybe you could borrow some clothes from the seraphim here?" she suggested, making an effort to ensure that the hatchet would remain buried for now.

"That's not a good idea," mumbled Mikleo, his ears turning red as he poured circles of pancake batter onto Sorey's griddle. "If a seraph infuses something with their mana, like a weapon or article of clothing, it becomes invisible to humans." He shook his head. "It's a lot easier to claim something like that than to release it, and if even the slightest trace of ownership remains, it might cause… issues… in human society."

Zaveid smiled reminiscently. "Oh, yeah," he laughed. "Speaking of fairy tales, _The Emperor's New Clothes_ has a few elements of truth, itself."

Rose sighed, thinking more about the first of his fables; this was the time for a sacrifice of a different kind. "Okay, fine," she conceded, somewhat grudgingly. "You can borrow some of my clothes." They were about the same height, anyway, she reasoned; Alisha might be a centimeter or so taller, and slightly flatter-chested, but such differences were trivial in light of their almost identical physiques.

The princess seemed about as enthusiastic at that idea as Rose herself. "Thank you," she responded reluctantly, staring at the ceiling, but sounded sincere enough.

"As the least conspicuous human among us," continued Rose, eager to be done with the subject, "even though that isn't saying much, I'll stop by Ladylake while you guys camp out in Lakehaven Heights. There, I'll be able to restock, and find some new clothes for Alisha while I'm at it. Sound good?"

Sorey nodded in assent, and Alisha echoed the motion after a slight hesitation: Rose dared to smile at them, as encouragingly as she could manage, though her heart wasn't in it, and she knew it showed. "Breakfast," announced Mikleo, cutting short her reflections, and her stomach growled in harmony with his words. When was the last time she had eaten? Certainly long before last night, but of course her little talks with Zenrus had kept her occupied until now.

As they passed around the basket of pancakes (making sure the three humans were served first), Rose discovered to her great astonishment and delight that perhaps pancakes were capable of holding their own against waffles in a fair fight after all. "These are the best pancakes I've ever tasted," she remarked thickly, swallowing with some difficulty, and there were nods of agreement all around. "What did you do to make them so delicious?"

"A little vanilla goes a long way," returned Mikleo modestly, directing his gaze at the fire and blushing slightly once more as he smiled at the compliment. "It's a seraphic secret, passed down from Gramps himself. And, from what I hear, vanilla comes from one of the other continents—so it's a precious commodity."

"Precious or no, it's not a secret anymore," exclaimed Rose triumphantly, through another mouthful of pancake, and Zaveid grinned over at her. "Just you wait, these little beauties might even outsell the mabo curry buns!"

"Y-you can't just mass-produce Gramps's pancakes!" coughed Mikleo, looking horrified as he choked indignantly at the very thought: Edna thwacked him half-helpfully on the back with her umbrella as Dezel snickered.

"Why not?" asked Rose, raising her eyebrows insolently. "Just try and stop me." She was joking, of course, and most of the more perceptive members of the group realized this—but Mikleo, however observant he may have been most of the time, had a tendency to take things a little too seriously sometimes… like a certain princess.

After Mikleo stammered several attempts at a response, Dezel chuckled. "Who has the weak comebacks now?" he asked pointedly; Sorey laughed despite himself, elbowing his Sub Lord playfully by way of telling him to lighten up. A somewhat sheepish smile tugged at the corner of Mikleo's mouth as he saw Sorey's expression, and Rose relaxed.

"Did you talk to Zenrus about your pact?" asked Mikleo, evidently eager to change the subject. "I don't see any Divine Artifacts on you."

Lailah sighed. "I had been meaning to talk to you all about that," she murmured apprehensively, glancing over at Rose; she and Dezel both nodded by way of granting her permission. "Essentially… either we must find a Divine Artifact, or we must find a pair of matching pact rings."

"Pact rings?" asked Sorey, tilting his head. "I've never heard of pact rings."

"Apparently they're fairly rare," returned Dezel unexpectedly. "The point is, we can just keep an eye out for them along the way." He paused. "The iris gems… come first," he added hesitantly, and though his words were reluctant, they sounded surprisingly sincere. Rose blinked in astonishment as she realized that this was the first time he'd openly prioritized Sorey's mission over his own; could he really set his revenge aside so easily…?

The others stared at him in equal shock, but Sorey thankfully nodded before it could become too awkward a silence. "Let's stay in Elysia one more night, to make sure we're well-rested and prepared for the days to come," he suggested, leaning back on his hands, and the group murmured their wholehearted agreement. "At the very least, it'll give me a chance to go hunting today," he added, braving a smile in Rose's direction. "And you know what that means…"

"You're going to _bring home the bacon_?" giggled Lailah, and her words were predictably greeted with growls and groans galore. Zaveid actually halted mid-motion just before taking another bite, opting instead to stare at her blankly. Rose found herself actually grateful for the distraction.

"Not your best, Lailah," returned Edna, giving as much of a smile as she ever offered, and Rose had the sense to brace herself: "These little piggies aren't amused." Much to Lailah's clear chagrin, her comment got a much more positive reaction than the original joke… even though in Rose's humble opinion, it was hardly any better.

But still she smiled, because as she glanced around at her friends' laughter—at _Dezel's_ laughter—her head felt clearer and her heart felt lighter than they had been in a long time. This was what she was fighting for, after all; and if Dezel still wanted to fight by her side, Rose wasn't about to complain.

She only wished she knew _why_.

* * *

 _A bit of slightly more lighthearted fun in preparation for darker times to come! For the most part, anyway. Lots and lots of reviews this time around…_

 _ **CWolf2:**_ _Thank you! Sometimes I worry that it's too exposition-heavy, so I'm glad to hear that it deepens the plot without weighing it down too much._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Indeed! I confer upon you one internet crablette! Maybe it will make up for all the anxiety I cause you between chapters, haha. As for Rose's situation with Dezel, it doesn't have to culminate in Shepherdhood to be resolved—it just has to be formalized. She just thinks it would be best for the entire group if she became a Shepherd._

 _ **Zesty Zestiria:**_ _Agreed! I mean, I've noticed that the fandom's fanfiction focus seems to be fixed on Suremiku, and she wasn't a permanent party member, so the general culture tends to exclude most mention of Alisha from what I've seen… but as far as I'm concerned, she deserved a much larger role in canon._

 _ **N:**_ _Yeah… that happens sometimes. My update schedule seems to go like "cluster of chapters followed by slight hiatus; rinse and repeat". Anyway, I'm not sure Dezel knows what love is, so even if that's true (and I'm not saying it is), he'd be the last person to identify it as such. As for Zaveid, Serious Mode is certainly a lot of fun to write. I'd argue it's just as nice as sticking to canon._

 _ **Chibi Torra:**_ _Can I just say, again, that I am beyond flattered by your overwhelmingly positive response to this story. Seriously, if any thanks are to be offered, they're mine to give. As for your points: 1.) you know the answer already [YES YES YES]… and 2.) I know the answer already, but I'm hesitant to either confirm or deny it; their relationship ought to develop alongside the plot, so it'd be rushing it to tell and not show. Sorry about that!_


	22. Chapter 21: Keeping On

"Tell me it isn't true."

These were the first words Ladsinc the weaponsmith had spoken since Rose had walked up to his stall, still open even in this weather; but his words weren't the first hint that something was horribly wrong—rather, his silence. He had a rich voice, and he loved the sound of it even more than his work; more often than not, he used it to talk of its oh-so-skilled speaker.

In fact, Rose wouldn't have guessed that anything could render such a boastful man as Ladsinc speechless, so it was almost a relief that he had said anything at all… except that he chose to say _those_ words. As it was, they could have meant just about anything, and his grave expression coupled with his clear nervousness spelled trouble; as he picked up the Sparrowfeathers identification she'd slid across the counter along with her gald, she could see his fingers trembling.

"Tell you… what?" returned Rose apprehensively, narrowing her eyes as she scrutinized his face closely. The storm was obviously real, so there was no way he would ask her to deny it; he also couldn't possibly know about Maotelus, and Rose was still kind of struggling to come to grips with that herself… so even _if_ he was, she couldn't help him. What else was there?

"E-everything," responded Ladsinc unhelpfully, not even trying to meet her eyes this time. "Now that the Shepherd has stolen Princess Alisha on behalf of Rolance, Hyland stands on the brink of war… again." Rose's eyes widened, and she almost told him it _wasn't_ true, but stopped herself short; loath as she was to admit it, the less the public knew of the true situation, the better.

"And?" prompted Rose as Ladsinc hesitated, placing her Sparrowfeathers identification back down on the counter. More accurately, he fumbled and dropped it; she frowned, noting his restless anxiety. If not the war, then what exactly was he so afraid of?

The vendor swallowed, his voice shaking as much as his hands. "A-and… the Platinum Knights—c-caught the Scattered Bones. Based on an—an inside tip." He seemed unwilling, or perhaps unable, to continue; but his eyes flicked almost imperceptibly towards her Sparrowfeathers card, resting innocently on the counter, and Rose realized with a jolt that he knew. The _world_ knew.

Her heart froze, and her breath caught, and her eyes widened, and her head spun, and there wasn't even a lie left on her tongue as she opened her mouth. How could that be? The Scattered Bones had operated in the shadows for five years, meticulously covering their tracks. The only way anyone could have found out that connection without any warning was if one of them betrayed the others, and none of them would ever sell the others out—except…

 _Lunarre_.

She knew it in her bones. Even as his name throbbed through her aching mind, Dezel took a step forward to stand just behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder; Rose jumped at his touch. At her motion, he stirred as though to withdraw it again… but as the weight lessened gradually, she panicked. She _needed_ some sort of palpable proof that she was not alone; she couldn't stand the thought of Dezel leaving her too—

Before his hand could slide off her shoulder, Rose smacked hers on top of it to keep it there, no longer caring whether Ladsinc understood or not; as she did so, Dezel's fingers stiffened beneath hers, their glove-softened tips digging briefly into her shoulder. They both tensed at the same time, relaxing gradually as they breathed together; they could make it through this. They could…

"Why?" asked Ladsinc, clearing his throat. "Why would you kill…?"

Rose could feel her eyes cloud over like the sky at the hurt in his voice, but before she could open her mouth, Dezel spoke. "You don't have to explain yourself," he reminded her quietly, urgently, his exhalation stirring her hair; she resisted the urge to glance back. "Ask what you need, take your knives, and let's get out of here before he sets the guards on us."

 _Us_. Not just her, even though the guards wouldn't be able to see him. Rose bowed her head at Dezel's peculiar inclusiveness, the shock of pluralization bringing her back to reality. "A-are—" A convulsive swallow cut her off, and she cleared her throat. "Are they… still alive?" she managed, her breath catching at the end. Ladsinc's next word or action would dictate whether she lived or died inside: Rose had never imagined she'd be at the mercy of a mere shopkeeper.

Ladsinc hesitated for the longest moment she'd ever endured—but then he nodded tentatively, and her knees buckled. She leaned forward against the counter to support herself, clasping her hands tightly before her and thanking all the gods in a breathy half-laugh; even Dezel let out a long sigh of relief, squeezing her shoulder.

"Th-they're being detained in the Pendrago d-dungeons for now," Ladsinc returned, warier still at this display. "They've been… sentenced to death, but execution date's st-still to be announced." Rose took a deep breath, looking up at the shopkeeper more resolutely; as long as she wasn't already too late, there was still time. She could do this. _They_ could do this, she amended, glancing swiftly at Dezel out the corner of her eye; it was his family, too, even if they didn't really know it.

"Thank you," she told him, sincerely. "And… I'm sorry," she added, reaching tentatively forward to claim her knives. Ladsinc stumbled back a step as she did so, making a noble effort to shrug nonchalantly, but his eyes were troubled and did not quite meet hers: taking her traitorous identification with her, Rose turned away. Alisha would have to deal with wearing her clothes for a little while longer: they had more important things to think about for now.

* * *

"Rose?"

Alisha's voice reached her first; the Squire stood up along with her Shepherd as Rose approached, but she barely noticed. She hadn't spoken a word aloud to herself, the gods, or Dezel since she'd left Ladylake; she was busy trying to imagine how she could possibly save them in time. (First rescue, _then_ revenge, she had to keep reminding herself; she needed to avoid malevolence.)

"How'd it go?" asked Sorey apprehensively, and from the tone of his voice, she could tell he knew the news wasn't good. How could she possibly find the words to confirm his suspicions…?

Fortunately, Dezel took it upon himself to answer in her stead, crossing his arms with a sigh. "The Sparrowfeathers have been imprisoned in Pendrago," he told Sorey matter-of-factly, and the Shepherd's eyes widened as he looked over at Rose for confirmation; she bowed her head by way of affirmative, still thinking hard. "There wasn't time to buy anything other than Rose's knives."

Much to Rose's relief, Alisha pursed her lips in contemplation rather than displeasure. "The Sparrowfeathers," she repeated, glancing at Sorey in obvious puzzlement. "Of what crime were they convicted?"

"D-does it matter?" returned Rose a little too quickly, looking up again with a colossal effort, but she couldn't muster her usual flippant tone. "They're my family, so I have to save them. You two don't have to come along if you don't want," she added, addressing Sorey as well, "but… Dezel and I are headed straight for Pendrago."

As she spoke, Rose gazed anxiously up at her seraph; after all, she hadn't asked him, and for all she knew, he had a different plan. But instead, he nodded without so much as a hesitation, as though that much had been decided from the beginning, and she managed a wan smile. He cared so much more than he let himself show, thought Rose, marveling despite her exhaustion. How did he do that?

"Are… are you _sure_?" asked Sorey, as Alisha frowned.

"You'll have your hands full enough already," Rose assured them, letting out a short sigh. "Hyland and Rolance are at each other's throats again. Not only did your hunch prove right, Zaveid," she continued; he emerged at the mention of his name, his expression darkening—"but they actually blamed Rolance, too. Two birds with one stone, and all that."

Rose couldn't help but feel they'd overused that cliché, but it was still the most accurate. Initially, she thought Alisha's glower was one of disapproval, and opened her mouth to amend her words, somewhat annoyed—but the princess cut her off. " _Bartlow_ ," hissed Alisha, clenching her fists, and Rose blinked at the hostility in her tone (laced, it seemed, with sorrow). "We have to stop this!"

"What, the _war_?" asked Rose, raising her eyebrows, and the princess nodded once. "There's not much we can do except eliminate the source, and we're already working on that. But if you've got any suggestions…" She trailed off, gesturing for her to continue, and prayed that she didn't seem too sarcastic. Just because _she_ was cynical didn't mean everyone had to be, and in this case, she could do with a dose of hope.

Alisha narrowed her eyes, fixing her gaze on the misty silhouette of Ladylake in the distance. "Lady Maltran is of a high rank in the Hylander army," she began thoughtfully, and Rose's world turned airless; Sorey almost flinched, and Zaveid grimaced, but Alisha's focus fortunately lay elsewhere as she added, "There may yet be some hope if she agrees to help us."

Silence. Rose looked to Sorey, and Sorey looked to Rose, and neither of them could say a damn thing; they'd rip her heart out if they tried. But Alisha could tell that something was off; however unpleasant her perceptiveness was, it wasn't all that surprising given that Sorey and Rose both wore their hearts on their sleeves. "What's wrong?" she asked, crossing her arms, and stared between the two of them in curious concern. "If you've got something to say, then say it."

One couldn't get much more straightforward than a direct request; it was now or never, and the other seraphim knew it too, as they emerged from Sorey (whether to help or simply to watch the show remained to be seen). "W-well," began Rose awkwardly, glancing at Sorey as he and Lailah gave reluctant nods of permission, "I'm really sorry, Alisha, but… Maltran's a hellion."

Alisha blinked. "Excuse me, _what_?" she demanded, glaring, and stamped her foot with the force of her disapproval, taking a combative step forward. "Lady Maltran, a hellion? There's a time and a place for your jokes, Rose."

"I'm not joking," returned Rose seriously; once again, the poor princess was only lashing out in self-defense. Or, in this case, the defense of her mentor. She bit her lip as the princess began shaking her head wildly, mouthing a string of vehement negatives, but Rose forced herself to continue. "I don't know whether she's in league with Bartlow or not, but something's definitely up. I know she's a good actress, but you have to liste—"

" _No_!" interrupted Alisha aloud, her hands curled into trembling fists; Zaveid shook his head sadly, hiding his face in his hand, and Lailah shifted awkwardly in place. "Don't you dare say that about Lady Maltran! Ever since my mother died twelve years ago, she's raised me. She's been my—my _rock_! How could you say such things about her?!"

"So she's a _very_ good actress," corrected Edna doggedly, raising her voice above Alisha's protests; Rose found that following the conversation provided a welcome distraction from all the uncertainty swirling in her stomach like malevolence. "Same difference."

"We didn't want to tell you, and I really wish I could say it wasn't true," continued Mikleo, "but… Maltran won't help us." He sighed heavily, looking to his Shepherd. "Even if you don't trust Rose, you should at least trust us—and Sorey."

" _That's not it_ …!" returned Alisha with surprising force, but her eyes snagged on Sorey's crestfallen countenance; she faltered, staring at him, pleading with him wordlessly to assuage her fears and tell her everything would be okay. Rose hugged her arms uncomfortably to her body as she witnessed the light of desperate denial fading from Alisha's eyes, to be replaced by shimmering shock dancing in turquoise depths—wet with sudden tears.

She gasped, raising her hands to her mouth, and squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head; Rose swallowed her instinctive sympathy with difficulty, knowing she'd just say the wrong thing again if she tried to help. This kind of thing was more Sorey's forte, anyway—but rather than speak to reassure Alisha as she sobbed self-consciously into her gloves, Sorey closed the distance between them with a single step and pulled her into a comforting embrace.

Rose could hear Alisha's ragged breath hitch in the back of her throat as they stood there in silence for a second before Sorey murmured simply, "I'm sorry." As he spoke, he slid his hands up to her shoulders to steady her, putting a couple inches' distance between them; the princess tried to pull him back in with her expression, but Sorey had closed his eyes and bowed his head: her message didn't make it through. "I'm… so sorry."

Letting out a long and shuddering breath, Alisha shook her head and rested her hand tentatively atop Sorey's; Rose recognized herself in that instant, and glanced up at Dezel out the corner of his eye to find his blind eyes fixed on her: they both turned their heads sharply away from one another. Even if she was only looking at someone to gather her thoughts, she still hated being caught—though, to be fair, she'd caught him as well.

"I… I need to see the truth for myself," asserted Alisha, sniffling slightly, as the dull light of determination shone in her eyes. "If Hyland is preparing for war again, Lady Maltran may be stationed in the outpost. It's en route to Rolance," she added, more urgently. "It shouldn't take long. Please… let me see her."

"This isn't our fight," growled Dezel, slinging his arm protectively around Rose's shoulders. "Rose and I need to go to Pendrago, _now_ ," he continued, once he was confident he had everyone's undivided attention. "If you folks think you can take Maltran without us, we can meet up in the capital. If you can't, then we'll _all_ go there, and the hellion will have to wait."

Though Rose couldn't say she approved much of his authoritative wording given the delicacy of the situation, she still nodded hesitantly in agreement, fingering the hilts of her new knives nervously. "But… but it shouldn't take long," repeated Alisha helplessly, wringing her hands, and Sorey took a measured step back to let her have her space; Zaveid, meanwhile, kept oddly quiet as he evaluated the conversation carefully.

"Confronting Maltran isn't going to stop this war, so if you're not ready, the world can wait," Lailah told Alisha gently, tucking a strand of hair behind the princess's ear rather like a mother might. "Are you strong enough to face her? Sorey and we seraphim will be here to support you," she added earnestly, and Alisha dipped her head in defeated affirmation.

But it wouldn't hurt to lay out the other option. "If you're not, then we're all off to Pendrago," put in Rose. "The Sparrowfeathers are some of the only people who might be able to track the iris gems' location—and they're also the only family I've got. Besides Dezel," she added, glancing over at him as he pressed his lips together thoughtfully.

Even as she spoke, she recognized that including him in that family felt somehow wrong, but she berated herself for the thought as soon as it crossed her mind; why _shouldn't_ she count him among them? Dezel certainly done more for her than any of them; he arguably deserved that title more. Yet something about it still didn't sit right with her; she'd have to think about it more once she wasn't in a life-or-death situation (or a discussion pertaining to a life-or-death situation).

Ha. Like _that_ would ever happen.

"I—I'm ready to face her," asserted Alisha resolutely, her voice wavering only once. "Lady Maltran… is my family, too," she mumbled, grasping her forearm in one hand and gazing at the ground; Rose gave a light sigh as she remembered the day she'd issued Lunarre's sentence… and just like that, anguish flooded her heart once more.

If she was being totally honest, the princess's circumstances hit a little too close to home, though at least he'd betrayed her _before_ she found out he'd turned hellion. She'd had enough time and experience that there was no doubt left in her mind about which punishment fit his crimes; Alisha couldn't say as much for Maltran.

"You know," began Sorey, but hesitated; however, as Alisha looked up at him in mournful curiosity, he cleared his throat slightly and continued: " _We_ can be your family, Alisha." At those six little words, both Squires' eyes widened and filled with tears: that had been one of the first things Brad had said to Rose upon her awakening.

 _Rose, huh?_ he still smiled in her mind, where the past and present and future happened all at once—kind and fatherly. _That's a beautiful name for a beautiful girl,_ he told her, but she only narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. _Who gave it to you?_ he continued casually, sitting back, evidently unruffled by her lachrymose glare. _Do you have any family?_

 _I—I don't know,_ wailed Rose, the words bursting out of her against her will; she sniffled, wiping her nose on her bare forearm, and scowled, her tiny hands clenched into fists. _I can't remember!_

 _Shhh,_ soothed Brad, and a gentle gale wrapped around her with his words. She'd thought he'd cast some arte, and she grew still, staring up at him with wide eyes; she almost remembered something as the scent of that wind wafted by, but then he spoke again, and shattered the thought. _Don't worry,_ he told her slowly, solemnly, and his words sounded like a promise. _We can be your family, at least until we find your real folks. Sound good?_

Rose nodded hesitantly, but the breeze broke into her daydream: "We should get moving," announced Dezel, stirring her from her thoughts, and she raised her hand surreptitiously to brush aside a fugitive tear. "We're burning daylight. Such as it is," he added bitterly, casting an ugly look at the sky—but Rose could feel his attention lingering keenly on her face in the sweet stormy air. He didn't even notice Zaveid, looking unreadably between them with his fire-opal eyes.

"Then we'll keep traveling together until we arrive at Glaivend Basin," determined Sorey, turning to face Rose and Dezel once more. "Sound good?" His voice and Brad's harmonized in her head; she and her past self nodded accordingly, and the others all echoed the motion after a slight hesitation. Lailah, Mikleo, and Edna all disappeared in a flash of primary colors; their silence was unnerving, but not unexpected. There was really nothing more to say…

As they started the trek to Falkewin Hillside, Rose found herself accidentally locking eyes with Zaveid. Arms crossed, he searched her gaze slowly, methodically, as though scanning them for something specific; but before she could do more than frown in confusion, he bowed his head and closed his eyes with a small smile, and vanished back into Sorey.

* * *

 _No reviews this time! Guess this is what I get for keeping the updates coming so fast. Or maybe you guys just got it all out of your systems a couple chapters ago. Or maybe nothing much happened last chapter. It's probably a combination of all three.  
_


	23. Chapter 22: Blossom

The blind leading the blind was rarely a good thing, but in this case it proved to be quite helpful, given that Rose was too distracted to focus on her actions. Of course, she wasn't literally blind; but Sorey could be by now, and the fear of having abandoned him also clouded her judgment… though her fear of _being_ abandoned still outweighed it.

It had been a difficult decision to leave them in the end; long after they'd all agreed that Rose and Dezel would depart for Pendrago, she'd wondered whether she'd made the right choice—whether they'd be able to pull through without them. But she couldn't let her family die; she'd have to trust Sorey's seraphim to keep him safe. And Alisha.

Except that now, only a few hours after they'd parted ways, Rose remembered with an unpleasant jolt that without her domain to stabilize them, Alisha's Squireship might cause problems for them both. And, as much as she hated _what if_ s, she couldn't help but wonder whether she'd sentenced them to death. If they lost that battle on her account, because she wasn't there to keep their senses intact…

"Rose," Dezel interrupted through grit teeth, and she started. "If you don't stop skipping around like that, I am going to bind you hand and foot and _carry_ you," he continued sharply, and Rose almost stumbled over her own feet: he didn't bother trying to catch her this time, perhaps as retribution for her 'skipping'—but at least she didn't faceplant.

She'd been locked in her head long enough that she'd completely lost track of what her body was doing, but she gathered from Dezel's forbidding expression that her movements had been erratic for some time. Well, as far as Rose was concerned, all that excess energy needed _somewhere_ to go; did he have any actual solutions, or did he just feel like complaining?

But as much as she wanted to tell him so in those exact words, she couldn't bring herself to do it; after all, it would hardly be advisable to annoy him further if they were stuck traveling together. (Especially since the Scattered Bones were his family, too.) "How can you be so calm?" she demanded instead, narrowing her eyes; he hated helplessness as much as she did, if not more so, yet he strode alongside her as purposefully as if making his way towards his destiny. "You and I both know this is Lunarre's work, and that means this _has_ to be a tra—!"

"Everything we can do, we're doing right now," Dezel interrupted. "Thinking about what we _can't_ do will only slow us down. If the knowledge that we're making good time isn't enough for you," he added dryly, "then you need to find something else to think about."

"Like?" challenged Rose, glaring, and sped up to spite him. Stomping through these stupid ruins long after the others had stopped for the day definitely didn't help her mood; fear, frustration, and fatigue fought amongst themselves about which of them would consume her first. Probably the only reason Rose hadn't collapsed yet was because the victor was still undecided.

"Like coming up with an alias," suggested Dezel, keeping abreast of her with exasperating ease, and she scowled. "You'll need one now, too." Damn it; why did he always have to be so _right_ all the time? Truth be told, it almost made her want to argue, but of course she didn't have any good points to make.

Fortunately, Rose's annoyance was relatively short-lived as she pounced on a thought scurrying across her mind; any distraction would prove welcome in an atmosphere as stormy as this. Rose glanced over at Dezel; it was too dark to see well, but she could tell he felt her eyes on his face. "How'd you come up with _your_ name, anyway?" she asked, careful to keep her tone light. "I mean, nobody gave it to you, did they?"

Dezel gave a somewhat strangled sigh, readjusting his hat. "I don't remember," he told her, his voice edged with a half-gentle warning. "All I know is that my name is my own."

Rose heaved an exaggerated sigh at his dismissive tone; he had to realize how utterly unhelpful he was being. "I'd use my true name," she said thoughtfully, "except I don't know how I'd feel about anyone calling me Wilkis or Wilk. Not that it's not a good _name_ ," she amended hastily, "but it's just not common enough to be a good _pseudonym_ , you know?"

Or pretty enough, but if anyone found out Rose cared about 'prettiness', she'd never hear the end of it. However, as Dezel chuckled knowingly, she supposed grudgingly that it had been kind of stupid to assume that the seraph whom had watched her almost all her life wouldn't have found out about something like that.

Not that Rose thought being feminine was a bad thing! Far from it. She loved flaunting her femininity about as much as any female should. She just had a couple problems admitting that she sometimes cared about, you know, _pinkist_ stuff. Painting her nails, trying on clothes, talking about cute boys (or maybe girls)—things like that. And that included judging a name on its 'pretty' factor.

"Do you want me to name you?" asked Dezel suddenly, swift and quiet words spilling out like the tide, and Rose blinked in shock. She stirred herself out of her surprise a split second later; why _wouldn't_ he be capable of giving her a name? If anything, he was probably more qualified than anyone else; he'd certainly spent enough time around her to know what would suit her best.

And besides, it wasn't as though Rose had any ideas, herself. "Uh… sure, I guess," she responded hesitantly, scratching her head. "Did you have something in mind?" she added more cautiously, when Dezel said nothing further. But he shook his head; she could hear the faint rustle of his jacket, even if her vision failed her at this hour.

"Let me think," he sighed, though not without some amusement in his voice. "You're not easy to capture in words."

* * *

Rose hadn't slept well, but that was a given; at least they'd managed to find a patch of ruined cobblestone to keep them off the ground. It was barely big enough for the two of them, but she wasn't about to get up in arms about maintaining her personal space at a time like this—especially since Dezel's body heat served as an extra blanket.

The dawn brought with it a stiffness in her joints; a bone-deep certainty that today would be a longer day even than yesterday; and the name _Isylvia_. It was the first word out of Dezel's mouth that morning, softly spoken as he touched her shoulder to wake her. Rose opened one sticky eye to focus on him blearily; it was barely light, but that didn't mean anything in this weather.

"Who?" she yawned, squeaking as she stirred faintly; he scooted back almost imperceptibly as she shifted against one of his legs (the other of which, she realized, was bent over her back). " _Oh_ ," she added, eyes widening in newfound comprehension as yesterday's conversation flooded back to her. "Don'tcha think a fancy name like that might suit Alisha better?" she added apprehensively, sliding out from under his leg and grimacing. "It's like, four syllables or something. I can't count that high this early in the morning."

"Right," muttered Dezel, pulling his hat down and bowing his head, but he couldn't hide the small frown flickering across his face; as she leaned slightly closer, eyeing him keenly, he turned his head away from her—looking as though he'd like to melt through the crumbling wall against which he leaned.

How much sleep had he lost coming up with that one, anyway? Rose had rarely seen him invested in something so trivial. "I didn't say I don't like it," Rose told him truthfully, and his expression seemed to brighten slightly; so _that_ was it. "Does 'Isylvia' mean something, or does it just sound pretty? Not like it _matters_ or anything," she added, crossing her arms, "but I'm still curious."

"I think… it means 'blossom'," responded Dezel, running his fingers restlessly along the brim of his hat. "In the ancient tongue. It suits you," he added in a rush, staring sightlessly at the gray sky, and he might have been a little redder than usual in the dim light of dawn. "S-since your name is a flower, and all."

Rose blinked in surprise; she'd never heard anyone but ruin maniacs talk about a forgotten language like that before. "Do you _know_ the ancient tongue, Dezel?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Maybe Mayvin had taught him, or something, since he could see the seraphim; she felt a twinge of almost physical pain in her heart as she thought of the old man once more.

"Maybe," he responded tersely, letting out a light sigh; Rose echoed it, contemplating how much less frustrating it would be for them both if he could recall more of his past. "If I do, I can't remember most of it. It took me all night just to think of that word." He shook his head, but Rose's thoughts were elsewhere. "I don't know where I would have learned it, either."

"You better not have pulled _another_ all-nighter on my account," sighed Rose exasperatedly, smacking his hat down farther on his head; he gave an irritated growl, swatting her hand away and pushing the brim back up again. "You gotta take care of yourself too, remember? If not for yourself, then for me. I mean, my life's on the line just as much as yours, now." She looked him in the eye, as near as she could figure. "Don't forget that."

Dezel gave an oddly heavy sigh, bowing his head momentarily as if in grief, and got to his feet. "Believe me, I won't," he murmured darkly, holding out his hand to help her up, and Rose hesitated briefly before accepting it. They had a lot to talk about in this vein—but first, she'd have to learn how to distinguish between his kindness and severity.

* * *

"My turn," announced Rose, false bravado echoing off the walls of Lamorak Cave; having abandoned trying to find a good 'right time' as of yesterday, she instead figured that it was probably in everyone's best interests for her to just bite the bullet and ask: "Why don't you hate _me_?"

This pool of frigid rainwater didn't make for a comfortable bath, but anything was better than nothing. After all, the last time she'd bathed had been back in Elysia; even though that hadn't been any less exposed, she had to admit that was still more relaxing given that Lailah had heated the water for her. Soaking away the layers of grime in a bottomless, ice-cold pond was… less than awesome.

Her question brought only stunned silence at first before Dezel responded quietly, "I can't," and she froze for more reasons than just the temperature; his rough voice carried over to her on such a soft sigh that she actually turned around to face his back. What kind of an answer was _that_? Certainly not the one she'd been expecting.

"Why not?" asked Rose, frowning in confusion. "Not that I _want_ you to hate me or anything," she clarified hastily, scratching her head and wishing to all the gods she had a hairbrush handy. "I just figured… since you basically live for revenge, that maybe you'd… be mad at me… for getting in the way."

But Dezel shook his head even as she spoke. "It's not your fault," he told her firmly, moving his head to glance at her over his shoulder, though the air around Rose remained thankfully still in the interest of preserving her privacy. "Besides," he added, "our situation hasn't changed, only how much we know about it. And I'm grateful Zenrus told us, or else I—I might have…"

As he trailed off, Rose smiled faintly and rested her arms on the land's edge. This was an interesting development. "Are you still planning on killing that girl?" she asked him, her throat constricted; she tried to clear it, but it had no noticeable effect except to make her sound hoarser still. "And… are you still going to use me to do it?"

There was a brief and agonizing pause before Dezel finally responded. "I'd kill us both if I did," he told her heavily. "And what would be the point of avenging the Windriders if neither of us survive to carry on their legacy? No," he went on, shaking his head, before Rose could react. "Not yet. Not until we have something more than revenge to support us."

Rose frowned, her mind snagging on a peculiar paradox. Dezel's vengefulness was a powerful enough emotion for him that he could support their pact from his side alone, yet that same vengefulness was not strong enough to overcome his desire to keep her safe. (Thank gods, but still.) And come to think of it, Rose did share his wish to avenge her friends—albeit to a slightly less obsessive degree—so shouldn't their pact be mutual anyway?

More questions than answers, as usual… and with just the two of them, there was no one to answer them anymore. "Are you done?" asked Dezel pointedly, and Rose jumped, clambering out of the pool in a hurry to dry herself off. "And why are we _talking_ about this, anyway?" he added, as if the thought had been bothering him like an itch.

"We j-just haven't really had a ch-chance to t-talk about anything in… a long t-time," Rose told him, shivering, as she pulled on her clothes again. The world seemed so much warmer in contrast to her bathwater, she thought, snuggling into her tunic as comfortably as though it were a blanket. "So I figured, since we're alone…" She trailed off, wondering what she was trying to tell him, but he cut her off.

"There's nothing else to say," shot back Dezel, crossing his arms, as Rose slid down the cavern wall to sit a respectful distance away. "We know what we have to do, and we're doing everything in our power to make it happen," he continued expressionlessly, inclining his head. "Isn't that enough?"

"Ouch," responded Rose half-jokingly, raising her eyebrows. "Come on, let me in," she insisted more sharply, scooting closer to him; though he stood (sat?) his ground, he shifted uncomfortably in place, the wind swirling around her warily. "I thought we were over this pushback—no secrets between us. You know, like actual _friends_?" She leaned against his shoulder, grinning up at him.

"There _are_ no secrets between us anymore," snapped Dezel, moving suddenly away from her so that she almost toppled right back into the pool; she scrambled back again in a hurry. "But I also don't see that there's any reason to talk instead of getting some rest. There'll be time for that after the Scattered Bones are safe, and we've already said everything important anyway." He shook his head. "You should sleep."

"On the contrary," countered Rose, shaking her head, and managed a small smile in his direction. "Big news—I've officially decided to accept Isylvia as my alias! But _only_ if everyone calls me Sylvi for short," she added, watching Dezel's reaction closely in the short pause that followed.

"You'll have to take that up with Sorey and Alisha," he returned, struggling not to look pleased, and her smile widened; even if he chose not to admit it, he really was easy to satisfy. Thank gods; he was prickly enough that if he were any pickier, she might strangle him, and hang the consequences. "They're the ones who will need to use it, after all."

The silence that followed was far more comfortable than all the others they'd experienced on this branch of their journey thus far; flopping back on her sleeping bag, Rose let out a breath she'd probably held off and on since they'd left the others. "It really is a pretty name, you know," she remarked, staring at the cavern ceiling. "Blossom, huh. If I have a daughter someday, maybe I'll name her something like that."

"A daughter?" asked Dezel almost before she'd finished talking, raising an eyebrow in apparent surprise. "You want _kids_?"

Rose sighed, shaking her head, and smiled over at him. "You've been around me my whole life and you don't know I want kids?" she prodded dryly. "You should know how important family is to me by now. Someday, I'll adopt all the orphans I can handle, and all the other Scattered Bones will help me raise them. And if I ever fall in love, maybe I'll have a kid or two of my own, too." She grinned, relaxing into her familiar but long-forgotten fantasy; she hadn't thought about it in any kind of detail since before she joined Sorey.

"Fall in love, huh," returned Dezel, his words accompanied by the barest hint of a sarcastic snarl, and she blinked in astonishment. "That doesn't sound like you. I've watched you for years, and not once have you given enough of your heart to anyone else to let yourself _fall in love_." The delicate, derisive emphasis on the last few words told Rose that he doubted such a thing was possible.

"And what, pray tell, do _you_ know about love?" she growled, sitting up and leaning back on her hands to look at him—as curious as she was annoyed. "You don't exactly seem like the loving type yourself." Except for the animal thing, she thought; but that would weaken her argument, and it wasn't the same kind of love anyway. (She hoped.) "N-no offense or anything," she added apprehensively, as something of an afterthought.

Dezel only shook his head, pulling his hat down farther over his eyes. "None taken," he muttered, though his tone begged to differ, and Rose noticed that he'd dodged her initial question. "Now, shut up and go to sleep."

Rose sighed; he was so _sensitive_. Someday, she'd get him to open up a little. "Good night," she responded obediently. "But don't forget to wake me for my watches this time!" she added, tossing a tiny rock at Dezel playfully; but he slapped it out of the air with such precision that it struck Rose smack in the middle of the forehead. _Ow_. "Okay, okay," she sighed, laying back again reluctantly; he wasn't in a good mood. "Spoilsport. You win."

"Good _night_ , Rose," Dezel told her pointedly; she almost flinched at the sadness in his voice, wondering guiltily exactly how badly she had screwed up this time. She'd have to find some way to apologize later, but in the meantime, losing herself in more comforting thoughts might be the way to go; once more, hesitantly, she turned her mind back to her ideal future.

Rose would definitely need to teach her adopted kids to see the seraphim, assuming they couldn't already… but then, wouldn't she go blind, spreading her resonance out like that? She smiled faintly as she thought that maybe Dezel could teach her to read the wind, but that thought brought with it a whole new package of problems. Even if— _when_ —they formalized their bond, he'd probably stay with her for the rest of her life.

Rose frowned as she imagined Dezel chasing off all her future lovers like some sort of vengeful ghost, and immediately regretted making such an analogy in a cave full of undead; it took her some time to get her thoughts back on track. But eventually, she reflected somewhat bitterly that at least when she couldn't see Dezel, she didn't have anyone else's feelings to worry about; now, she doubted whether she'd be able to ignore his input. Could she ever find the strength to defy him—and would it be worth it?

But she'd burn those bridges when she came to them, Rose thought; Dezel had a point—she could only do as much as she could do, and there would be plenty of time to talk later. For now, they just had to make sure the Scattered Bones would be around for whatever future she could build: rolling over to face the wall, she let the waves of sleep wash over her at last.

* * *

 _I know this reads kind of like filler, but it's all important. You'll just have to trust me on that._

 _Meanwhile, I've published a (potential) collection of sidefics as a separate story, under the title "Ring of Fate: Sidequests and Skits". Those will consist of any little scenes and/or conversations I can't fit into the main plot here due to perspective constraints and/or overall pointlessness to the plot._ _If you'd like me to explore any situations or characters I haven't elaborated upon, slap a review on that story and I'll take your suggestions into consideration! Otherwise, it's just more to enjoy. Or resent. The point is, it exists._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _You don't have to apologize for not reviewing every chapter! Less for me to respond to, certainly. And I think it's kinda funny that you're just as happy about them going off alone as you were that they found everyone else several chapters ago, haha._

 _ **bladegryphon:**_ _Yeah, Zaveid's pretty sharp, despite what he'd have you believe. But with regard to the possible repercussions of leaving Sorey one Squire short, he at least has four seraphim instead of only three to help make up the difference._

 _ **burningmetal:**_ _Thank you! :) The only reason I can update so quickly is because I spend almost every second of my free time writing. Much to my parents' chagrin._

 _ **Straya:**_ _Oh, hello there! It would seem I have a habit of posting new chapters almost immediately after receiving reviews; here's your "more" to look forward to, haha. Anyway, I'm flattered that you've read parts two or three times over, honestly. I mean, I reread for editing's sake, but it's nice that you do it just for the hell of it. And thank you so much for all the more specific compliments, too! I love all these characters and I can't stand to stick everyone else in the background in favor of focusing on a single dynamic, however central that connection must be. Thanks for keeping up; I know it's a lot to catch up on!  
_


	24. Chapter 23: Innocence

The future wasn't looking especially bright, given that by the time Rose and Dezel arrived in Lastonbell, the war had already reignited.

They'd seen smoke in the direction of Glaivend Basin, so they'd guessed as much after they'd emerged from Lamorak Cave yesterday evening—but even though Rose was well aware that more forces than just Maltran were involved here, it certainly didn't make her feel any better. If anything, it made her feel even worse, and she didn't think that was possible… especially in light of this friction between herself and her solitary companion.

 _Go to sleep,_ Dezel had told her last night, crossing his arms; that was about as much as he'd said to her over the past day or so. After all, Rose hadn't yet figured out how to apologize, and in the meantime, she didn't want to make things worse with more pointless chatter. _You need rest._

 _I can't,_ she shot back sharply, shivering as much out of anxiety than cold. _I'm scared._ _What if I have to save the world alone?_ she mumbled, almost ashamed of the thought. Gods, Rose hated thinking too much; but what else could she do when everyone she'd ever loved was in danger? What else could she do when she'd lacked the foresight to protect them? What if Maltran had killed Sorey and Alisha—and what if she was too late to save the Scattered Bones…?

 _You're not alone,_ pointed out Dezel, crossing his arms. _I'm here. Good luck getting rid of me._ And he smiled at her slightly—a small gesture, but a genuine one. Rose couldn't help but return it, understanding that she was forgiven; she needn't apologize after all. If she just made sure to tread a little more lightly from here on out, she'd told herself just before finally falling asleep, all would be well.

Rose dragged herself back to the present with some difficulty; at least with a seraph on her side, strategy was a breeze (as Lailah might say, given the chance). No human could see him, so he didn't have to lie quite so low—not like Rose, crouching behind an enormous tree root to listen in on knightly conversation.

"Ignorant townsfolk," snapped a soldier contemptuously. "They don't even know what you're going through!"

"Nevertheless, I can understand where they're coming from," returned Sergei's voice evenly; Rose glanced up at Dezel to find him looking significantly less surprised than she was, and realized (feeling the heat rise to her cheeks) that he'd probably told her sometime while she was reliving his reassurance. "The clash with Hyland has already cost us many lives."

"I'm no Prime Lord, but I can still tell that the citizens' malevolence has intensified," muttered Dezel, speaking as if to himself, but did not trouble to keep his voice down; why would he? No one else could hear him, anyway. "It feels like there's something else going on here. Something that doesn't have to do with the war. And it feels… familiar."

A terrified cry some distance away cut him off, and Rose's senses sharpened in preparation for battle: that sounded like a child. Poking her head briefly above the root, she caught a glimpse of a young boy cornered by three Hylander soldiers, at least one of whom was hellionized—and immediately began formulating a plan of action. She was closer than the Platinum Knights; she could reach him more easily…

"Rose!" shouted Dezel as she leapt over the log and charged at the hellions without any further hesitation. No matter the consequences, she told herself with every racing heartbeat, she had to save this kid. It seemed as though he represented her fragile future; she couldn't let it be destroyed, especially not by a hellion. Besides, if she couldn't save one kid, how could she rescue her family?

" _Daddy_!" screamed the boy, but Rose got there first. As it swung its spear to slash at the child, she drew her knives and pushed against the shaft with all her might: the force of impact almost knocked her over at first, but she bent with the blow and dropped into a crouch, pressing her knives into the pole.

"Run!" she managed, turning her head to address the boy: he nodded, his eyes gray and wide as the sky, as he got to his feet and ran for the gates of Lastonbell. The other two Hylander soldiers' movements in her peripheral vision drew her attention back to the fight; as they stabbed at her, she threw herself backwards in a somersault to avoid their attacks, sprinting forward again and almost slipping on the damp grass.

But this time, she had help: "Men! Take Formation Three!" barked Sergei, and two Platinum Knights surged forward on either side of her to engage the two non-hellionized soldiers. "We cannot pull back if the people of Rolance are threatened," he added firmly; though Rose heard him unsheathe his sword, she could not look: her attention was more occupied with leaping over the hellion's spear to avoid being sliced in two.

Dezel's pendulums wrapped around the shaft in an attempt to loosen its grasp: though this had little effect given its unnatural strength, Rose could at least take advantage of the distraction. She darted forward to drive her daggers into its ghostly torso, dragging them down to inflict two deep gashes. The hellion howled, and Rose grimaced as a gaseous purple substance pulsed like blood from the wounds: the orb of violet light in its head flickered.

But a sinister sound like rattling or laughter emanated from deep within its empty helmet, and as Rose ripped her knives from its chest, she whirled around to find that the hellion had encircled her in its arms, turning its spear in preparation to pierce itself as well as her; its point gleamed at her like a wicked wink. Dezel struggled against the spear with all his considerable might, grimacing as his heels dug into the soft earth—but still the hellion resisted him.

"N-no," she started saying; she didn't want to go like this… but Sergei's sword sliced suddenly through the hellion's blackened wrist, and its hand evaporated into dark smoke before it even hit the ground. Rose tried to break free as soon as she felt its strength falter, but the hellion brought its spear forward one-handed with astonishing quickness—pain shot through her side as the blade nicked her waist, and she staggered—

" _Rose_!" cried Dezel once more, running forward as the hellion slumped over on its own blade; clutching her side shakily, Rose looked back at the fray as Sergei charged into battle alongside his comrades. The other Hylanders had hellionized by now, out of self-defense, and Rose bit her lip as she watched one of the Platinum Knights fall. They had no idea what they were getting into, did they…?

"Don't even think about it!" ordered Dezel fiercely, seizing her wrist with trembling touch; as though his words had been an incantation, green light pulsed from his fingers with her heartbeat, following the network of her veins and spilling into the gash to stop the bleeding. "If you push yourself any farther today, I'll kill you myself," he threatened more quietly, scowling. "Let the others handle this for once."

"They're only humans, Dezel," pleaded Rose, gazing up desperately into Dezel's blind and ruthless eyes; the sound of another falling body caught her attention, but she could not look away from his face. At this rate, they'd all die, even Sergei; couldn't he see that? Even her precious life could not be worth more than those of so many others!

"So are _you_!" snarled Dezel, pulling her back; she staggered into him, and he steadied her by the shoulder. "I'm no healer," he added, inclining his head as his grip on her wrist tightened slightly. "If you rush in again and get yourself killed, we're both done for. Trust Sergei to take care of this, and _stay here_."

Rose didn't dare disobey… but fortunately, there was no need: even as she stared over her shoulder apprehensively, the last hellion fell by the captain's hand, and she blinked in surprise. The Platinum Knights had lost only one this time, from the looks of things; the body Rose had heard must have been one of the hellions—but that was enough to shake them, and it showed.

The three remaining soldiers all pointed their spears at Rose, and Dezel sank fluidly into a combat stance, cursing under his breath. "Stand down," ordered Sergei, his hazel eyes flinty as he looked around at his knights; after a suspicious pause, during which nobody even seemed to breathe, his men withdrew their weapons reluctantly.

"May I speak with you, madam? Alone?" Sergei added, addressing Rose this time; he as tense as she had ever seen him, and she thought she could guess the reason why. (She _was_ a wanted criminal, after all.) Exchanging a brief glance with Dezel, she dipped her head without removing her eyes from the captain's troubled expression. "Collect our comrade and return to your posts," Sergei commanded, addressing his soldiers once more. "This shouldn't take long."

"Yes, sir," muttered at least one knight, clearly unconvinced—but nonetheless the three of them together bore up the body of their fallen companion and departed without another word, albeit with several backward glances.

Sergei watched them go until he was sure they were out of earshot, then turned back to Rose. "No doubt you've heard that the Scattered Bones have finally been caught," he told her, crossing his arms. At least he got right to the point, thought Rose, appreciative despite herself; she couldn't abide beating around the bush.

She nodded haltingly, well aware of the futility of lies; Dezel tensed next to her, but she held up her hand in warning. Sergei frowned slightly, glancing over at the motion, but said nothing: "It wasn't their fault," murmured Rose, half to herself.

"Beg pardon?" asked Sergei, resting a hand on the hilt of his sword.

Taking a deep breath, Rose shifted her weight from foot to foot, uncertain as to how she could tell him. She'd rarely been this considerate about others' feelings before; that, she supposed, had been the greatest gift (and/or curse) Sorey had given her. "It's all my doing, not theirs," she told Sergei resolutely, clenching fistfuls of tunic to stabilize herself. "I killed the Cardinal. The others had nothing to do with it."

Dezel rested a hand on her shoulder, and she jumped. "Rose," he warned her through clenched teeth; Sergei's eyes widened in horror, his mouth dropping slightly open, and Rose winced at the pain clouding his expression. "You're _wounded_. You can't take him in a fight!"

"Lucky for me, you're around to help out, huh?" mumbled Rose as softly as possible, glancing at him out the corner of her eye, and he gave a low groan of resignation. Of course, she didn't plan on fighting; there had to be some way to persuade him she wasn't evil…

"I had hoped you would explain it was all a misunderstanding," sighed Sergei, shaking his head in furious sorrow. "But I see that's not the case!" he exclaimed, drawing his sword with surprising speed, and Dezel struck before Rose even had a chance to react; but Sergei deflected the pendulum automatically before charging forward with a fearsome battle cry.

Backing up and darting aside, Rose slammed her arm into Dezel's chest to deter him from attacking; a frown flickered across Sergei's face as he saw her collide with nothing, but he did not retreat. "You know about hellions, right?" asked Rose cautiously, sidestepping as the captain slashed at her: she grimaced as she twisted, and her side spasmed.

"Yes," responded Sergei, just as warily, and shifted his grip on the hilt.

"The reason I killed the Cardinal was because she had become a hellion," Rose responded, letting out a long breath. "There was no way to save her. Even the flames of purification weren't enough; she was… thoroughly corrupted." She shook her head. "I acted as I did in defense of Sorey—so that the Shepherd wouldn't have to bloody his hands. His job is to give life; mine is to take it."

Sergei blinked, then shook his head in agitation. "But… are you still one of the Scattered Bones?" he asked, his voice taut with something like grief or anger, and she was sure his knuckles would be white if she could see through his gloves. "Are you accountable for the past five years' worth of assassinations?"

"Pretty much, yeah," responded Rose reluctantly, and Sergei stiffened at her nonchalant words: oops. That probably hadn't been the right thing to say; she braced herself for another onslaught, glancing apprehensively at Dezel to find him livid. _If you push yourself any farther today, I'll kill you myself._ Oops indeed.

"How could the Shepherd marry a—a _vixen_ such as you!" roared Sergei, and Rose threw herself back to dodge his slash, using the ground as a springboard to flip herself backward. Pain flashed through her side once more as she tried to stick the landing, and she staggered: as Sergei approached, Dezel took the opportunity to ensnare one of his ankles with a pendulum, yanking him off balance.

The captain tripped, letting out a vocalization through grit teeth, and fell to one knee, plunging his sword into the soft earth to steady himself. "If it's any consolation," panted Rose, clutching her reopened cut and stumbling forward, "the assassins' guild wasn't my idea. Not really." Dezel reeled in his lines abruptly, muttering an incantation fiercely to himself.

"What… do you mean?" asked Sergei, trying to pull himself to his feet, but Rose kicked him back. It was a lot easier to strike him than she thought, probably because even if he hadn't landed a hit on her, he'd still attacked first. (Plus, he'd also called her a vixen, and associating Rose with foxes was unforgivable given Lunarre's involvement.)

"Well, actually… it was divine intervention," Rose explained, scratching her head, and she could have sworn Dezel shot her a dirty look as he finally cast his spell. Well, how else was she supposed to explain it?

"What?" gasped Sergei, staring up at her; she fought the urge to roll her eyes. How could he be so surprised to hear about the seraphim when he believed so strongly in Sorey? "But seraphim are supposed to be…" He trailed off, staring at Rose's wound as Dezel closed it once more; she didn't look at it this time, but she could feel the tingle of healing light swell and fade like a pulse of its own.

"Paragons of virtue?" snorted Dezel, crossing his arms, but of course Sergei didn't so much as turn his head in his direction—still staring openmouthed at Rose's side. "Hardly. Oh—and by the way," added Dezel furiously, grasping both her shoulders and spinning her around to face him, " _I told you not to push yourself_!"

Dezel punctuated each syllable by shaking her, but Rose could tell he was only holding on so tightly to disguise the fact that he was still trembling; she'd pulled the same stunt many times herself. Whether that tremor was born of fury or worry was more open to debate… but it was probably the latter, because as soon as he'd finished talking, Dezel pulled her into a brief but close embrace.

However, before Rose could so much as pat his shoulder awkwardly, he shoved her away again and turned his back, as sullenly as if she'd been the one to initiate it; she grinned as a new idea struck her. "Hey," she began, turning back to Sergei (who was by now thoroughly freaked out). "Sorry about that," she added as an afterthought, rubbing the back of her head; he nodded in awed acceptance. "But can I try something Sorey did to me when we first met?"

"That depends on what it is," responded Sergei guardedly; Dezel turned around again and gave her the slit-throat motion, but Rose ignored him. She needed information that only Sergei could offer, and Dezel could certainly help her coerce him. Even the knowledge of his presence had immobilized him, after all—and she supposed the pendulums had helped.

"Just… give me your hand," Rose told the captain as encouragingly as possible, bending slightly to offer hers; to her surprise, Sergei extended his gloved hand apprehensively, gazing up at her searchingly. Ignoring Dezel shaking his head vehemently, she closed her eyes and announced pointedly, "We are in the presence of the seraph Dezel, if he'd care to say hello."

Of course, he only offered one of his characteristic _hmph_ s; Rose felt her eyes flicker under their lids in an automatic eyeroll. "I—I always thought the seraphim were real," remarked Sergei, his words hushed and reverent, "but I never imagined I'd have the privilege of hearing one of their voices!"

"Believe me," giggled Rose, "it gets old fast."

"Hey," growled Dezel, and flicked her in the side of the head; startled, she almost opened her eyes, but remembered to keep them shut just in time. "You'll get old faster than I will. Ungrateful _brat_ ," he added, his tone hovering somewhere between annoyance and affection.

"Ooh, nice," laughed Rose appreciatively; she had no idea why it always surprised her whenever he made a witty comment like that. (Maybe it was his laconic attitude?) " _Anyway_ ," she continued, addressing Sergei once more, "now that you know you're in the presence of a seraph, you might consider letting me off the hook. That, or you'll be on it instead." Sergei gulped in understanding, and Rose heaved a sigh of relief. "So, is there anything you'd like to tell us? About how you caught the Scattered Bones?"

"Yes and no," responded Sergei slowly, his fingers twitching beneath her own as if he wanted nothing more than to withdraw his hand—but he did not do so. "One of their number betrayed the others," he explained eventually, his sigh brushing the back of Rose's palm. "He offered to tell us the true identities of the other Scattered Bones in exchange for a few… favors."

"Like?" prompted Dezel tersely, his voice dangerous but distant; Rose knew his thoughts were with her family. _Their_ family, she corrected herself. It shouldn't be this difficult for her to accept him as a part of that, she thought crossly; but there was no time to dwell on it now.

Sergei swallowed, understandably misinterpreting Dezel's tone as a threat. "E-everyone expected him to ask for a pardon, but he actually asked us to let him choose his former comrades' sentences… as well as his own," he responded, his voice heavier than his armor. "I didn't want to allow him to do such a thing, but my superiors disagreed, so I had no choice."

"And… what did he decide?" asked Rose faintly, her heart in her throat.

From the sound of things, Sergei only shook his head. "That I don't know," he told her, his voice serious and sincere, and Rose bit back a groan of frustration; it wasn't his fault. "Shortly afterwards, I was sent here to help evacuate the citizens. Even though the Hylander army marches at full force, most of the townsfolk have refused to abandon their homes."

Rose bit her lip; that, combined with the rising levels of malevolence, did not bode well. "Sorey should be along in a day or two, if all goes well," she assured Sergei. "And you know him; he probably won't be able to resist helping. But do you know if the Scattered Bones are still alive?" she pressed, steering the conversation back to the matter at hand.

"If they'd been executed already, I'm sure I would have been informed," responded Sergei gravely; at his words, Rose sank to her knees out of sheer relief. There was still time to save them! She could have sung in celebration, if only her backpack was handy; but then, realistically, she'd need even more than that to carry a tune. But immediately after her relief came another surge of anxiety; if she didn't play her cards perfectly, they'd still—

Oh, right. The conversation. "Thanks," Rose told Sergei distractedly, letting out a sigh of comparative contentment; but as usual, too much of her emotion showed in her voice. That, or maybe Sergei's powers of perception had grown to a normal level since their first meeting.

"Surely… you don't mean to release them?" asked Sergei, fidgeting once more as though to pull his hand away and get up; but Rose squeezed his hand, and he settled down again warily.

"Believe it or not, Sorey and I actually need their know-how for the sake of saving the world," Rose responded carefully; unfortunately, the situation called for diplomacy, or she'd be inclined to respond with _I do, and don't call me Shirley_. (Thanks for that, Zaveid. Really, he was no better than Lailah in most respects.)

"Are you going to stand in the Shepherd's way?" growled Dezel, and Rose found herself somewhat grateful for his intimidation tactics. Good-guard-bad-guard had never failed her before… though admittedly she'd usually been forced into the bad-guard role given Sorey's naïvete.

"Of course not," replied Sergei, plainly alarmed, "but—"

"Excellent," interrupted Rose, opening her eyes; as she stood and helped pull him to his feet as well, she offered him the most brilliant smile she could muster. He may not have meant to help her in this way, but he'd given her a sense of hope for the first time in awhile. "We'll be on our way, then."

"Oh," was Sergei's only response; he blinked several times as he gazed down at her, apparently at a loss for what to do with himself. "I…"

"You're a good person," decided Rose, crossing her arms and tilting her head as she looked him up and down appraisingly. "As sincere as they come. If any of the Scattered Bones are caught again, we'll deserve it, and every one of us will accept our fate—including myself." She shook her head. "But this isn't our time. We were sold out by a hellion, and the Shepherd needs us now."

Sergei nodded once, a spark of determination glinting to life in his eyes. "Understood," he responded, raising a resolute fist to his heart. "I will not stand against you, though I cannot vouch for the knights in Pendrago. I'm sorry for drawing my sword before I listened to your tale," he added in a rush, and bowed his head somewhat self-consciously. "But you must understand, the next time our paths cross… I may have to do it again."

"No worries," smiled Rose; how adorable—he thought he'd actually be able to hurt her. "You're just doing your job. And I'm just doing mine." She took his hand once more, earnestly, and Sergei blinked down at her in embarrassed confusion. "But if you see Sorey, could you tell him Dezel and I were here? I'm sure he'll be worried."

"O-of course, milady," responded Sergei gallantly. "I wish you the best of luck. Until we meet again," he added uncertainly, making a motion as though to tug his fingers away, but did not try hard enough; her smile widened. Was that a farewell, or an acknowledgment that the next time they met would in all likelihood be on opposite sides of the law?

"You too," returned Rose, brimful of hope, and kissed the back of his hand on an impulse she didn't quite understand. Maybe it was the trickster in her, longing to make a little mischief after so many days of seriousness; maybe it was exhaustion, muddling her already minimal sense of propriety.

Either way, it certainly got a reaction; Sergei turned about as red as Rose's hair, extricating his palm from hers as though her lips had burned it through his glove. "I—ah," he began, wringing his hands helplessly, and tried in vain to meet her eyes. "Wh-what would your husband say, milady?" he asked finally, though it sounded to Rose as though this had not been his initial thought.

Oh well; she may as well play along. "Relax," she laughed, standing on one hip. "You're a knight; you probably kiss fair damsels' hands all the time. It's just common courtesy, right?" Of course, it was admittedly a little unconventional for said fair damsels to kiss the knights' hands as well, but… well, it was the thought that counted.

"O-oh, of course," stammered Sergei, looking more lost than Rose had ever seen him, and bowed hastily, tugging his sword from the ground. "My mistake. I'll… be in the barracks, if you need anything further. And I'll tell my men to leave you alone for now," he added over his shoulder, already taking off in a hurry. Rose watched him go with sympathetic amusement; if a gesture as mild as a kiss on the hand was enough to fluster him, he probably had no idea what real fun felt like.

And speaking of which: "Common courtesy, huh," remarked Dezel sardonically, crossing his arms. "Not so common, if you ask me. I don't think you've ever kissed anyone else's hand like that before."

"Why would I?" shrugged Rose, starting the trip back to the tree root to reclaim her pack. "Normally, there are a lot more interesting places to kiss than someone's hands. But let's face it; a moment like that was just too perfect to pass up." She tossed a grin over at him. "Besides, where would you _rather_ I have kissed him?"

Dezel tried his best to glare at her, but his mouth twitched as she laughed, and he glanced away from her again with an involuntary noise in the back of his throat. "You might have knocked him out if you'd tried that anywhere else, especially since adultery is considered a sin," he told her, readjusting his hat as he paused thoughtfully. "Though I'd imagine he actually lost it because you're a criminal, and he's a captain."

Oh, that would make sense; it wasn't among the more common roleplay scenarios for nothing. "Well, that's one way to win," shrugged Rose, clambering over the root and wincing as she remembered her wound the hard way; she had to be more careful. "Maybe Zaveid has a point for once," she added, beaming at him as she scooped up her bag. "Make love, not war, and all that."

"Now _that_ would kill him," muttered Dezel dryly, and Rose laughed at his slight smile. If the hope of success burned hot enough to lift even his perpetually dampened spirits, then maybe—just maybe—that was their key to victory after all.

* * *

 _Bet you all thought I was jumping to Pendrago! I'd say to guess again, but given that this is at the end of the chapter, that'd be pointless. There won't be another update tomorrow, so I'll wish you all a Happy Valentine's Day today instead! Oh, and by the way, this chapter is technically named for the song "Innocence" by Avril Lavigne, except that it fits Alisha/Sorey far more than anything to do with this section. Go figure._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Mmmmaybe, to all of the above._

 _ **XxLTxX:**_ _Those are some incredible compliments you've got there. Glad you saw fit to give some of 'em to me, especially if you don't make a habit of leaving reviews! Anyway, I love writing Rose; her personality most resembles mine, so she comes more easily to me than a lot of other characters. And I'm not sure the rest of Glenwood would agree with you about how bad this situation is, haha; as far as they're concerned, the world's still ending. Regardless, thank you so much for reading and reviewing!_

 _ **Straya:**_ _Thanks (again) for all the praise! And you're right about that puzzle piece; that's the final missing section. Of course, SOMEBODY *cough*Symonne*cough* went and hid it in the couch cushions. It'll take some digging yet before they can find it…_


	25. Chapter 24: Fox Hunting

_This chapter gets pretty close to M in the ninth and tenth paragraphs._

* * *

Something about tonight felt distinctly different, and Rose didn't like it one bit.

She'd been to Castle Diocese before, of course, and with Dezel and her daggers at her side, it had been remarkably easy to sneak in—but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was venturing dangerously deep into forbidden territory. And it didn't help that she'd recently discovered that something more than mere malevolence had wrapped around her heart like a pendulum, and it hadn't let her go.

It had been like this at least since Lamorak Cave, come to think of it; but it had begun as a nameless, nervous tension provoked by Rose's inadvertent offense… and assuaged only by the prospects of forgiveness. And, ever since Dezel's reassurance, it had dissolved into a restless fluttering in her gut like a second heartbeat, proving itself a distraction at best—an electric sort of excitement, tempered by what felt like frigid and febrile fear.

Yet it wasn't altogether unpleasant; in fact, for one reason or another, Rose's spirits had rarely been higher overall. How could that be, in an atmosphere like this? That uncertainty only served to agitate her further; no such intangible sensation had ever put her on edge like this before. It did seem somehow familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on how or why; if she'd experienced it before, it must have been some time ago.

Regardless, this didn't feel like malevolence, so it was best just to focus on the here and now. If this stupid cocktail of confusion would let Rose concentrate long enough to find her family, anyway; but she was on the right track, if the sharp chill of malevolence was anything to go by. Unless…

"Dezel," she hissed as she examined the already broken padlock, her heart freezing in her chest at a new and terrifying realization. "What if they're—?" The last word stuck in her throat, and she almost retched; she'd been so focused on whether her family was alive or dead that she hadn't even considered the possibility of corruption.

"Hellions?" finished Dezel swiftly, his voice low, and shook his head. "They're not. I can tell this is coming from a single source, and we both know who it is." He peered keenly at her from the shadows, and she shivered at his inquisitive breeze. "Calm down and remember your training. Neither we nor they can afford to waste any more time."

"I… I understand," whispered Rose, nodding once as resolutely as possible, and pushed past the door to the dungeons. Nothing screamed 'trap' like an unlocked door to an ordinarily high-security area; as they descended the spiral staircase, she steeled herself for any number of unpleasant scenes, apprehension hastening her movements. This couldn't be good.

Unfortunately, Rose was absolutely right. She may have earned herself a strong stomach over years of work as an assassin, but she still swallowed queasily as they came to an abrupt halt at the bottom of the stairs. Countless Platinum Knights, half-burned, or half-eaten, lay sprawled haphazardly in the aisle between the rows of cells… in which slumped the inmates, likewise horrifically mutilated. She could hardly see the floor for all the corpses.

"Lunarre," muttered Rose, her voice cracking, as she took in the carnage with wide eyes. He hadn't left a single survivor; the world was deathly still around her, but for Dezel's grimace at her side as he jabbed a finger at smears of blood on the wall, jerking his head away in disgust: _HURRY UP BOSS I'M HUNGRY_.

"N-no," Rose choked out; as the last word echoed down the hall, the torches blazed briefly blue, and she stiffened as they extinguished themselves altogether: he hadn't left yet. "They're not here, Rose," murmured Dezel, resting a hand on his shoulder as if to tell her they could always leave… but she shrugged it off, shuddering in the aftermath of his lightning touch.

This ended _now_. Lunarre had hurt enough innocents in her name—and he would tell her where her family was, she told herself fiercely, forcing herself to move forward despite the darkness. Trap or not, this interrogation was one step on the path to closure… so she had to take it.

Doing her best to avoid treading on the burnt and broken bodies as well as several severed limbs, Rose cautiously started feeling her way along the corridor, but stumbled to a stop as Dezel's gale rushed past her; there was no reason to put herself in danger when he could read the wind. "In the cell at the end," he growled.

Even as he spoke, two of the torches by the last room sputtered back to life, casting their eerie cerulean glow over the sinister scene. (He'd always had a flair for drama, thought Rose, far too troubled to smile at the observation.) Lunarre leered at them from the final cell; puzzlingly, judging by the ring of keys lying in a pool of blood on the floor, he'd locked himself in.

"You came," he greeted them, grasping the iron bars of his cell door; his pale eyes focused on Rose's face—pupils dilated in anticipation, so much so that they almost looked round again. The intensity of his concentration on her reaction stirred Rose to convert her fear into fury, and she narrowed her eyes, resting her hands on the hilts of her knives to steady herself. "I didn't want to be here, but now I'm thinking I just might enjoy this."

"You've got a lot of nerve showing your foxy face around here after everything you've done," snarled Rose, drawing her daggers as she hurried her pace; Dezel strode alongside her until they stood only a few feet away, ready to defend themselves and each other if he put up a fight. "It's time to finish this!"

"Oh, this is only the beginning," Lunarre assured them, so softly that Rose couldn't bring herself to strike first, lest she miss his next words. "I'm the last hope you have of finding your fellow Scattered Bones, after all," he continued, smirking slyly, and made no move to attack. "Do you really want to kill me before you rescue them?"

Gods damn it; she should have known he'd make things difficult. "What have you done?" demanded Rose, shifting her grip on her knives more uncertainly; as if reading her thoughts, Dezel made a resigned noise in the back of his throat, but did not stand down.

"Wouldn't _you_ like to know," snickered Lunarre, baring his teeth in a disquieting grin, and Rose narrowed her eyes. What did he want? "Surrender, and I'll spare your last remaining comrades. You have my word," he added, somewhat more impatiently, when neither Rose nor Dezel looked at all convinced.

…As though _that_ would change anything. "The word of a hellion is worth nothing," snapped Dezel angrily, summarizing Rose's thoughts exactly; she nodded once in his direction, glaring at Lunarre.

"Are you sure? It's quite a bargain," insisted Lunarre, turning his golden gaze on Dezel instead. "So many lives in exchange for one. And there are plenty of other vessels you could use, _seraph_ —like the other Squire," he added, licking his lips and salivating: Rose curled her lip in disgust. "Everyone knows the boss here is too hot to handle," giggled Lunarre, "but the princess is so sweet and succulent. Give another girl a taste for once!"

"Don't you dare talk about Alisha like she's some sort of—of _dessert_!" ordered Rose through grit teeth, even as Dezel opened his mouth furiously. "She's a living, breathing human just like me! Just like _you_ used to be," she added as an afterthought, her voice almost breaking, and swallowed convulsively. It would do her no good to consider his metamorphosis now.

Lunarre's eyes flashed in her direction again. "Oh, _Alisha_ ," he laughed, raising a mocking hand to his forehead as if swooning. "Let me tell you a little secret, boss," he added, crossing his arms as his expression hardened. "If you taste enough blood, you'll understand: humans, seraphim, hellions—all of us are the same." He gestured vaguely between the three of them, and Rose found herself powerless to look away from his flinty eyes. "There are no races. There are only the strong… and the dead."

"You're right," growled Dezel, jerking his head sharply up and to the side as if to look down on Lunarre, and Rose finally blinked in astonishment. "There are the strong, and there are the dead. But there are also a few cowardly weaklings like _you_ ," he added, his every muscle tense with loathing. "The ones who drink strong blood because they think it makes a difference."

"Oh, but it does," hissed Lunarre, lunging forward to grip the bars; Rose took a step back to solidify her stance, her heart skipping a beat. "Try it and see. If the boss will let you take a bite, that is," he cackled, and Rose winced as a half-physical pain throbbed through the scar on her neck. (But maybe that was just the intensity of her guilt.) "I doubt it."

"N-nobody's eating anybody," shot back Rose, before Dezel could respond, and resented her voice for shaking. She could feel her seraph's attention lingering on her mark; he'd never asked about it before, but what if he turned against her now? She couldn't possibly let him think she'd just let it happen.

"Shows what you know," retorted Lunarre scornfully, crossing his arms. "If you're not the predator, you're the prey. _Now_ ," he continued, his voice taking a darker and still more dangerous turn, "back to business. Do we have a deal, or do I get to roast a few sparrows for dinner?"

"What have you done to the Scattered Bones?" repeated Rose, scowling as ferociously as she could.

"They're a little _tied up_ at the moment," chortled Lunarre, narrowing his eyes in cruel amusement. "Cooperate, and I'll let them go; resist, and I kill them all. And since you're so fond of limited-time offers, I thought I'd personalize one for you," he jeered. "Better think fast; supplies won't last!"

"You _bastard_!" spat Dezel, firing a warning shot through the bars: Lunarre swayed to the side so that it missed him by an inch, tossing him a sharp-fanged smile. But Rose's mind had snagged on an insane idea—the most perilous plan she could possibly conceive. As long as Lunarre took her straight to the Scattered Bones, with no detours…

"Watch it, seraph," he told Dezel, arching an eyebrow as he broke into Rose's thoughts. "I might kill them anyway at this rate. It's really quite simple," he sneered, standing on one hip. "If the boss comes with me alone, the Scattered Bones are guaranteed to live. If either of you fight back, they die immediately. Which will you choose, I wonder?"

"Rose," Dezel began, bowing his head in Rose's peripheral vision, and she turned her head to gaze at him in dull astonishment: he did not meet her eyes, opting instead to adjust his hat. "You can't sacrifice yourself for them. You have to survive… at any cost."

"Oh, how the leash tightens!" exclaimed Lunarre, giving a growling laugh as he licked his lips hungrily, leaning his forehead against the bars. "Isn't that _touching_ ," he grinned. "He's willing to let the world burn, as long as you're alive." And Rose was grateful for it; really—as long as he didn't try to control her… She bit her lip and shook her head; she had little choice at this point. This course of action would at least would offer a chance of survival for them all, not just herself and Dezel; she _couldn't_ leave her family to die, however inadvisable it may be to try and save them.

"Enough," murmured Rose, stepping forward to face Lunarre, and sheathed her knives as she stared him down. Gods, she could feel his breath on her face, hot and shallow; even as she recognized it, he stuck his tongue out to lick her nose, snickering unpleasantly as she recoiled. "I-if you promise to take me straight to them," she added hesitantly, mopping her face and taking a step back, "I'll go with you."

"No," interrupted Dezel, shaking his head vigorously, and took a couple steps forward, though seemed at a loss for what to do with his hands. "No, you can't. Rose, _listen_ to me for once!" he added, with a passion she had seldom heard before. "If you die, Lafarga's sacrifice will have been for nothing—my life will be for nothing!"

"Dezel," responded Rose, turning to look at him earnestly; how could she convey her plan without blowing her own cover? "Lunarre is right. You should find another vessel; I mean, you can't even live inside me." She put as much delicate emphasis on the last few words as she dared, willing him to understand her plan, and she thought she saw his eyes widen in comprehension. "Let me go with him. He'll take me to the Scattered Bones, and that's all I want right now."

"But…" began Dezel, shaking his head, though his protest seemed less vehement; Rose took an impulsive step forward to rest her fingers on his lips, gazing intently up at him, and he stiffened under her touch. They stood like that for a moment of breathless silence—as long as it took Rose to think Dezel got it. Eventually, he sighed and bowed his head, shaking it slightly—but she could feel a smile tug subtly at his lips for a fraction of a second. Good; he understood after all.

"You're either really brave or _really_ stupid," he mumbled, grasping her hand to move it away from his mouth, and glanced over at Lunarre without letting go of her fingers. From the outside, that probably looked like a gesture of desperation; but Rose could feel resigned encouragement and reassurance in his pulse instead. "There," he added; unless Rose was much mistaken, there was actually a note of pride or perhaps even triumph in his voice. "Saved you the trouble of saying it yourself."

"She'll be so proud," he smiled, his eyes fixed on their intertwined hands with no small amount of interest; Dezel dropped Rose's fingers immediately, his expression darkening at the vague mention of his rival seraph. "If you're serious, then let me out," continued Lunarre, addressing Rose alone.

Obeying reluctantly after a brief hesitation, she stooped to pick up the ring of keys, doing her level best to ignore the blood seeping into her skin. As she straightened up, Rose offered Dezel a covert smile of gratitude for his compliance; pulling off a stunt like this would be difficult enough without his resistance. She'd have to find some way of thanking him once all this was over; it said a lot that Dezel trusted Rose enough to let her try something like that.

It took a few moments of fumbling to find the right key, but she finally turned it in the lock: the door swung open, and she stepped back warily as Lunarre stepped forward. Grinning smugly over at Dezel, he jerked his head towards the cell as if indicating that he should get in: Rose nodded slowly, careful to keep her eyes wide and serious. For one reason or another, iron bars meant little to a wind seraph; but there was no need for his so-called captor to know that.

Dezel sighed, striding into the cage in clear resentment; Lunarre shut the door, swinging the key ring around his finger—perhaps in place of his missing jewelry. His attention remained fixed half-lasciviously on Rose; she shuddered, resting her hands on the hilts of her knives, as she thought that he seemed to be staring straight through her, ogling her soul as much as her body.

"I forgot to mention, I have permission to kill you now," remarked Lunarre conversationally; Rose rested her hand automatically on the hilt of the knife as he took a single, menacing step towards her. "But only _after_ I take you to your family." His sinister smile widened along with Rose's eyes. "I gave you my word I'd spare your life. Do you trust me to keep it?"

"No," shot back Rose, drawing her daggers. She had no intention of cutting and running at this point, nor of jeopardizing her family's situation; but she definitely wasn't going to go quietly if he had plans to hurt her before he even let her see them. "Of course not."

"Good," growled Lunarre approvingly, lunging for her suddenly. Though Rose raised her knives to defend herself, such was his inhuman speed that she only registered his raised palm a split second before he struck her backhanded across the face. Rose's name on Dezel's lips rang in her ears as her blades clattered to the ground, and she didn't even have time to offer him a prayer that their plan would work before darkness swallowed her whole.

* * *

 _*holds head* I almost feel bad for posting this often, but when I'm fleeing real life to the extent that this is all I do with whatever free time I have (and some time that isn't supposed to be free), I guess this is to be expected. Not to get all dramatic on you or anything! I just hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I love writing it, that's all._

 _In slightly more lighthearted news, it's about time Lunarre showed up again! Maybe I should put up another chapter in the sidefic collection about what he was doing for his little twelve-chapter vacation from the plot…_

 _ **N:**_ _Snowcone… I like it! If I had to guess, I'd say the shift is a direct result of traveling alone with Rose. I hope it's not too jarring, given that I've been trying to build this up for some time now. *crosses fingers*_


	26. Chapter 25: Chain Link

By the time she came to again, Rose had lost her senses in more ways than the one; it took her what might have been several minutes to convince her overloaded mind to consider its surroundings—and even longer to recognize any kind of meaning within them. _Too_ long.

Judging by her ability to move freely, she hadn't been physically restrained; Rose supposed there had been no need, if she'd been knocked out. She lay on cold flat stone, but it didn't seem to be raining; she must be inside a building, then. Along with… the Scattered Bones! The truth of her situation came flooding back to her abruptly, and her eyes flew open in alarm.

Her sight was misty at first, so she had to rely on the echoing sounds in her exhausted ears to understand those swift blurs of black and white and green and gold. As the high metallic zip and click of pendulums harmonized with the deeper whoosh of fiery fists, Rose recognized with a jolt that Dezel was taking on Lunarre alone, and her muscles seized up briefly in fear. This couldn't end well…

Even her relief that Dezel had been able to stow away in her body after all seemed dull in the glaring light of this threat. At least that explained why she felt so fragile, she thought indistinctly, struggling to sit up; but at least her seraph had known better than to take control this time, so her temperature hadn't changed… mostly.

In her core had settled a heaviness like icy lead, but the sensation was a restless one and seemed to sear her insides like fire. Yet this didn't feel like the usual sensation of a malevolent domain; it seemed too powerful, too… personal. Had she been corrupted? Had Dezel? She gazed down at her blurry hands as if expecting to find talons, but they looked the same as ever to her bleary eyes—and if her seraph still fought hellions, he must be pure.

"Boss!" exclaimed a faint voice from somewhere behind her, and she started. Was that Eguille? Turning her head so quickly her neck cracked, Rose glanced over her shoulder to find the Scattered Bones behind her, every one of them imprisoned but apparently intact. She wasn't about to question it; relief enervating her still further, she swayed in place, eyes brimful of tears as she smiled despite herself.

But Rose had to keep moving. As long as she freed one of them, they could help the others while she helped Dezel; he'd been protecting her all her life, so she ought to return the favor. Besides, he'd been risking his life as she slept, so unless he was an even bigger hypocrite than she thought, the ban on putting herself in danger must be lifted.

Staggering to her feet and reeling in place as she tried to support her own weight on shaking legs, she reached automatically for her knives before remembering that they'd been left in the dungeons of Castle Diocese—and if memory served, this was the innermost hall of Pendrago Shrinechurch; she had a long way to go if she wanted her weapons. Except…

"About damn time!" shouted Dezel from a distance, throwing her knives at her feet, and she blinked in astonishment as he sidestepped out of the way of a blast of blue fire from Lunarre's ungloved hands. And, however advisable Rose knew it must be to strike while the iron was hot (so to speak), she couldn't help but stare in shock.

From the looks of things, she'd missed a hell of a fight while she was out: Dezel's shirt hung from his body in burnt tatters, his bare chest and arms and back adorned with several half-cauterized scores from Lunarre's clawlike nails. Breathing hard, he grit his teeth in pain and rage, his blind eyes wild—visible only because his beloved hat rested upside-down on the floor some distance away, along with his torn jacket.

She stirred herself away from her increasingly troubled observations, forcing her feet back to her family, and knelt by Eguille; he may have been sturdy in stature and personality, but he wasn't a young man anymore. "Are you—are you okay, boss?" he coughed, and Rose bit her lip uncertainly; he needn't be asking her those questions at a time like this. "I-is there a seraph…?" he prompted dimly, when she could not bring herself to respond.

"Y-yes," responded Rose, making thankfully short work of his ropes, and thrust the hilt of one of her knives into Eguille's hand: he stared at it dully, as if unsure how to use it, and she struggled not to snap at him. "But… he's in bad shape, so you handle the others. I need to help him kill Lunarre real quick, but after that, we can all get out of here."

Thankfully, Eguille asked no more questions; he only nodded once and set to work, albeit slowly, on freeing Felice. She seemed to be worst off among them, but there was no time to examine her too carefully: grimacing as her head throbbed, Rose narrowed her eyes as she evaluated the battlefield—trying to formulate some sort of backup plan. There was no way Lunarre hadn't predicted this; aside from his missing gloves, he seemed relatively unscathed as he taunted Dezel from afar, dodging his pendulums with effortless flexibility.

Her original intention _had_ been to take him by surprise and escape with Dezel and her family; having failed in that, she had put both herself and her seraph at a dangerous disadvantage instead. Neither of them could stand against a hellion as powerful as Lunarre separately, nor should they risk armatizing in such an unstable condition. It was safest on the sidelines, thought Rose, aiming unsteadily…

 _Now_. She threw her remaining knife to defend Dezel as the hellion charged forward, praying to all the gods it found its mark—but he swerved out of the way, and it missed his throat by an inch. "Is that the best you can do, _boss_?" yowled Lunarre, screeching with laughter, and hurled his ball of fire at Rose instead; Dezel lunged forward as if to intercept it… too late.

Rose dove out of the way of the explosion, crying out through clenched teeth as her skin scraped against the stony floor; this kind of clumsiness could get them both killed. But as Lunarre tossed up another wall of flame and shifted his focus to Rose once more, preparing another ball of flame to finish her off, Dezel fought it with fire of his own.

Piercing through the blue wall with radiant heat, he took a running jump to dive through the opening—catching Lunarre just as he turned in surprise to investigate the movement. "This is for the Windriders!" he yelled, throwing all his weight into a punch: the hellion gave a strangled hiss as the seraph's fist collided with his diaphragm, staggering backwards as Dezel hit the ground hard off to the side. This could be the perfect chance, if only…

"B-boss!" rasped Talfryn, and the knife they'd borrowed skittered along the floor towards her: forcing her aching muscles to move, Rose dragged her last dagger towards her desperately, flinging it at Lunarre's leg as he tried to regain his balance.

This time, it stabbed clean through his shin: he let out a shriek as his foot twisted, finally collapsing onto his back. Panting, Rose pushed herself to her feet again and advanced, stooping to pick up her other knife as she approached. The intensity of her own rage terrified her; it blotted out every other emotion beating in her heart, even worry for Dezel.

As Rose fell to her knees beside them both, Lunarre giggled somewhat nervously as he eyed the blades in her hands. "A-almost," he mumbled, squirming almost sensually, and she recoiled at his rolling motion. "You're so—so close. I can feel it… here." Slowly, he slid one of his hands up his torso to rest over his core; as Rose realized he meant that strange heaviness, Lunarre's eyes flicked to Dezel, his sinister smile widening slightly. "Just a little l-longer now…"

It took almost a full second for Rose to stir herself from her stupor, her heart skipping a beat as she reentered reality. She glanced back at her seraph fearfully to find his breaths labored and his eyes dim—but her vision swam in relief as he managed an exhausted but nonetheless encouraging half-smile. Perhaps this peculiar weight was the burden of a vessel sharing her seraph's torment; but at least he didn't seem in danger of dying. (Thank gods.)

Having established his safety, she turned her once more furious gaze on Lunarre and his insufferable grin; as she'd said what seemed like so long ago, it was finally time to finish this. "May these weary bones find peaceful rest," murmured Rose darkly, and plunged her dagger through his palm to pierce his pale chest.

Lunarre spasmed, coughing convulsively, and stared at the blade buried to the hilt in his twitching hand. As his eyes widened in shock and pain and detestation, he spat in Rose's face: his saliva burned her cheek like acid, and a physical form of fury surged suddenly through her core. The heaviness seemed to redistribute itself throughout her bloodstream so that her entire essence seemed made of molten lead, and she winced as her bite mark twinged.

Anger flashed like lightning through her head, and the thunder of her pulse pounding in her ears drowned out all hope of reason: giving in to a sudden violent impulse, Rose twisted the knife sharply with shaking hands.

Lunarre writhed beneath her, his mouth open and eyes widening as his breath hitched in voiceless agony—almost a foxlike whine. Something savage inside her seemed satisfied at that soft sound of suffering, but rising nausea cut her triumph short; Rose ripped her dagger from his body, cursing her lack of self-control, and threw it away before she could even retch.

Even as she did so, some of the heaviness seemed to lift from her chest, and she gasped aloud at the sensation of comparative weightlessness; she glanced over at Dezel to find him baring his teeth in a vindictive smile. Lunarre's golden gaze was fixed on him as well, but his next words were still addressed to Rose.

"You—w-want to know… what made me m-malevolent?" he whispered haltingly, his voice a ragged snarl; she bowed her head, reminding herself to breathe. " _You_ did," he hissed, taking the motion as an affirmative, and reached his punctured palm up to paint her cheek in a crimson caress: her eyes widened. "You and your f-fake family, knotted together so t-tightly… you never let a-anyone else in."

Rose shook her head in sorrowful denial, her throat too constricted to speak; Lunarre echoed the motion mockingly, a fervent light in his dimming eyes. "You n-never trusted m-me," he growled faintly, fixing his gaze firmly on hers (full of searing hatred amid the tears of pain), and coughed feebly as his voice broke—a line of blood trailing thickly out the side of his mouth.

"I… I did once," admitted Rose shakily, unable to lie to him as he lay on his dark deathbed; Dezel struggled to sit up in her peripheral vision—but she could not tear her gaze away from Lunarre's face. "But you betrayed us," she finished more forcefully, but an inexplicable smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and she felt a frown flicker across her face. How could he—why would he…?

Rose cried out, startled, as her formless questions were answered abruptly: his body burst into azure flames. "It makes me _sick_!" exclaimed Lunarre, obscuring himself in a pillar of fire, the sheer power of which lifted him back onto his feet; Rose scrambled back, squeezing her eyes shut, as intense heat scorched her entire body like a fever. But what about her seraph—?

"Dezel!" she shrieked even before she recognized the only name in her mind, remembering him too late—but even as she screamed, something collapsed on top of her, and the heat lessened: Rose's eyes flew open to find that he had mustered the last of his strength to shield her. But all was not yet well; her focus slid over to Lunarre to find him enveloped in flames, his body barely visible at all anymore.

"Sick to _death_!" roared Lunarre, bellowing his final emphasis like a curse; his last, contemptuous words rang through the sacred hall like a demonic hymn… and just like that, he was gone; good riddance. He left behind only a puddle of smoldering malevolence; her steaming dagger; and a shining spherical something—was that an _iris gem_? But Rose didn't have time to squint too hard at his parting gifts.

" _Boss_!" cried Rosh, several sets of footsteps running up behind her, but Rose hardly heard them; nothing mattered anymore except herself and her seraph, their lives inextricably intertwined. She may love her family so much it hurt, but Dezel was hurting worse, so the next immediate issue _had_ to be making sure he had survived. (Ironic, considering she'd risked both their lives to save the Sparrowfeathers instead.)

"Dezel," she mumbled frantically; she could feel his shallow breaths pressing against her chest, but whether or not he was conscious—whether or not he would ever be conscious again—remained to be seen. "Get up. You have to… you _have_ to get up." Her voice sounded deep and raw to her own ears; she tried in vain to clear her throat in preparation to repeat herself, but…

Dezel gave a brief and halting exhalation into her upper chest, his abdominal muscles tensing against her hips; she froze automatically, feeling him trembling with the effort of pushing himself up. "I can't," he muttered into her, half delirious, but the muffled sound of his hoarse and quiet voice was the most beautiful thing she'd ever heard: he was _alive_! "I—I'm sorry."

Several seconds passed before Rose could actually speak; at first, when she tried it, she found herself sobbing out of sheer relief. As her heart truly lightened for the first time since the dragon's arrival, she finally allowed herself to realize it was over at last; they'd done it; they'd avenged Alisha and rescued their family. And while Lunarre was no Lord of Calamity, killing any hellion was progress. Especially _that_ one.

"N-never mind," she sighed eventually, closing her eyes. "Just… don't die. Please. Th-that's all I ask." Half-laughing, half-crying, she massaged his stiff neck with one hand; he responded with a short and breathy sound of either pain or appreciation, and she stilled her restless fingers self-consciously: she couldn't risk hurting him more. "Get some rest, now. I'll—" Her voice broke, and she sniffled and swallowed dryly. "I'll watch over you."

"You better," mumbled Dezel, shifting slightly in place, and sighed deeply as he relaxed into her: even considering that he made a better pillow than a blanket, Rose found herself wishing she could sleep as well… but there was too much to be done. She opened her eyes almost reluctantly to gaze up at her family, standing around her as if on her deathbed, and she realized that they could not see Dezel.

No wonder they looked so worried! "Seraph," Rose explained softly, but the word was almost lost under Felice's faint moan. Gods; the girl could barely stand: "Talfryn, take care of Felice," she ordered, trying to conceal her overwhelming concern; he nodded, escorting his sister to the steps to sit down. "Eguille and Rosh, check the offering bowls for healing items. Dezel and Felice both need our help, so grab anything useful."

To Rose's relief, they nodded once and obeyed without so much as a hesitation, and she actually debated getting up to help out—but she was still the boss of two now-defunct guilds (thanks, _Lunarre_ ), so it'd probably be more useful to them all if she did her job and figured out what the hell they were supposed to do next instead. At least there was another iris gem accounted for; Rose had no idea why it had been in Lunarre's possession, but she wasn't about to complain.

Besides, she figured she'd earned herself a rest; she smiled up at the ornate ceiling for reasons she didn't quite understand, realizing that her breaths had synchronized automatically with Dezel's. She hadn't noticed how much she'd missed sleeping next to someone else, even if she'd only ever stayed long enough to do so a few times before.

Wait, _sleeping_? Rose shook her head to draw herself back out of her body and into her mind, exasperated with her own thoughts. Sleeping, of all things! Yeah, right. Dezel better catch a few Zs on her behalf: if she ever wanted to sleep again, she had a _lot_ of work to do.

* * *

 _Happy birthday to me! Except I give gifts instead of receiving them, so here's a violent murder for you. (You're welcome!) Too bad I couldn't hit 100,000 words this installment, 'cause that'd be a super-awesome gift to myself. Oh well, next time for sure. And as of 2/19/16, Straya has drawn fanart of part of this scene. You can find it on either of our Tumblrs!_

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Nah, I mean, who'd ever guess that a wind seraph would have an eternal get out of jail free? But he planned on their combination for sure. As Rose mentioned._

 _ **N:**_ _*sigh of relief* Oh good; I was worried I'd pulled the rug out from under people, so I'm glad the last two dozen chapters haven't been for naught. As for Lunarre, I'm actually happy you think so, because I always thought he'd make a fantastic 'advanced' antagonist (which does, in fact, make sense—at least to me). As it is, in canon, he's reduced to evil sidekick and/or comic relief, which is just unfair given his potential._

 _ **NeD:**_ _Wow, thank you! The good side of those quick updates is that you don't have long to wait, haha._


	27. Chapter 26: Apples and Oranges

Thank gods for Elixir.

It may not have erased Dezel's scars, but it had at least healed his burns, and the white lines stretching across his body like Zaveid's tattoos were better by far than the roses burnt into Alisha's skin. Besides, the more important matter was that by the time he and Felice had finished off the little blue bottle between them, both of their conditions had stabilized enough for them to escape.

By which Rose meant that—after collecting her knives, the dormant iris gem, and Dezel's thankfully intact hat—she and the other Scattered Bones had dragged the unconscious seraph out by the pendulums. She didn't like it much after everything he'd done for her, but they didn't exactly have a choice; that had been the most convenient way to move an admittedly heavy invisible being.

"Sorry," she'd whispered, wincing as Dezel grimaced in his sleep. "It'll be over soon, I promise." And so it had been, although much less so than Rose had hoped: without his windstepping to help speed them up, it had taken them at least an hour to get out of the ridiculously labyrinthine shrinechurch, let alone to traverse the rest of the city. And she knew better than to believe they'd stand a chance in the open fields outside Pendrago…

Okay, time to make an executive decision before they passed the point of no return. "Boss!" hissed Eguille fiercely, catching Rose's arm as she raised her hand to knock on the door of the Gilione Inn; she tensed automatically at the feeling of strong fingers tightening around her wrist, but forced herself to relax. "What are you doing? We need to get out while we still can!"

"Do you want to spend the night in the rain, out in the open?" countered Rose dryly, looking Eguille dead in the eye. "Do you feel like taking turns on guard duty to make sure nobody ambushes us? You _know_ we can't keep on like this much longer, and we'll never recover if we don't get some rest, ASAP." She glanced down at Dezel in contemplation. "Besides, once Sorey and Alisha arrive, they'll probably come here even before they look for us on the outskirts of town," she added. "It's a win-win in my book."

Rosh pursed his lips, fidgeting with Dezel's pendulum. "What about the innkeeper?" he asked quietly, crossing his arms, and nodding at her fist resting on the door. "Do you trust him?"

"He… did me a kindness once," Rose told him, but couldn't suppress a nervous note in her voice; that had been some time ago, and a lot of things had happened to tarnish her reputation since then. "And personally, I think it's a risk worth taking for a bath and a good night's sleep." She shrugged, dropping her hand and turning back towards Dezel as though to drag him off into the distance; she hated using him as leverage, but she didn't have many other choices if they weren't going to listen. "But if you insist…"

"W-wait," managed Talfryn, as Eguille and Rosh shifted in place uncertainly. "Maybe the boss has a point. Not all of us had a taste of that Elixir, and I'm still feeling pretty beat." Felice rubbed his shoulder sympathetically, nodding in agreement, but said nothing; the Elixir had granted her strength, but even that couldn't cure illness immediately. Gods willing, she'd be healthy once she got some sleep… as would Dezel.

As Eguille dipped his head reluctantly, and Rosh muttered his equally grudging assent, Rose chanced a smile and knocked firmly on the door. As she waited for someone to answer it, Rose helped Rosh pull Dezel farther under the overhang. "Just a little longer," she assured her seraph softly, trying not to think of the same words on Lunarre's lips, but he did not react; she wasn't even sure whether he was conscious yet. "Hang in there."

"H-hello," began the innkeeper's muffled voice warily, and Rose jumped; she hadn't heard his footsteps over all this rain. "Who goes there?"

She took a deep breath. "Th-the Shepherd's wife," she told him hesitantly; no doubt he'd know the truth by now, but it wouldn't hurt to be cautious. "My family and I need somewhere to stay, just for the night. We'll give you all the gald we have," added Rose more desperately, when the innkeeper did not respond. "Please let us in."

" _Sparrowfeathers_ ," he muttered contemptuously, and she stiffened at his tone of voice; would he turn them away, or call for guards? "If it ain't one thing, it's another. Go ahead and come in," added the innkeeper tensely, unlocking the door and pushing it slightly ajar: Rose exchanged helpless glances with the rest of her family before finally acquiescing. "Is your invisible friend with you, too?" asked the innkeeper suspiciously, as Eguille pulled the door wider open to accommodate the seraph-bearers.

"Uh, yeah," decided Rose, letting out a long breath as she and Rosh hauled Dezel through the doorway as gently as possible. "Listen, we'll need the biggest room you've got—and if you'll let me into the kitchen, I can handle any cooking. No need for you to stay up on our account."

"The kitchen's yours for as long as you need it, though I can't guarantee there's much in it nowadays; and your room'll be at the end of the hall," responded the innkeeper somewhat wearily, tossing Rose a key from his belt: she caught it automatically. "But don't you know the Platinum Knights are gonna be after you come morning?" he pressed, narrowing his eyes. "Why are you all here?"

Much to Rose's chagrin, her family shot her glances of pointed resentment, and she gave a light sigh as she recognized that she'd have to speak for them. "If we head out there in this condition, we're more likely to die than if we rest up here first," she responded matter-of-factly. "There's no shelter, so the soldiers would probably find us a lot sooner… if the cold and wet didn't kill us first, that is." Rose paused thoughtfully, fitting the key into the lock. "Well, I guess they _would_ still find us, but we wouldn't be alive to know about it," she amended.

"Boss, please," sighed Talfryn, still supporting his listless sister. "Not now."

"S-sorry," replied Rose hastily, and cautiously turned the key, half-expecting it to be a trap—but no. What lay beyond was simply an ordinary inn room with two extremely welcoming beds and an adjacent washroom. "Now it's my turn," added Rose, handing off her pendulum to Eguille with some difficulty given that he couldn't see it; she leaned against the wall to face the innkeeper as her family dragged Dezel further inside. "Why are you helping us?"

"Don't get me wrong; I don't like it," he responded, scowling at the floor. "And I don't know how a seraph ended up siding with killers, but I'll take it as a sign—because at this point, I need all the business I can get," he laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. "But if you give me as much money as you can spare, and leave by tomorrow night… I might even forget I ever met you."

Recognizing her cue as he held out his hand expectantly, Rose rummaged through her pouch to pull out all the gald she had on hand. She didn't even bother counting it before handing it over; she could already tell it wouldn't be enough to cover all their costs. This was a dangerous time to be broke, she thought apprehensively; money tended to talk more loudly than words, even those of laws.

Sure enough, the innkeeper's expression darkened as he weighed the coins in his palm. "I guess every little helps," he muttered, slipping it into the pocket of his robe. "But I'll only lie for you as long as my life, or livelihood, isn't in danger. So if they insist on searching the place, I'm telling them about you before things get nasty—and if I say you threatened me into silence, they'll believe me, no question."

He sounded as though he was trying to convince himself more than her; Rose heard the hesitation in his voice, and smiled at him gently. "Makes sense," she assured him, and he blinked in apparent astonishment at her kindness. "Thanks," she added sincerely; but the innkeeper only nodded shortly and turned around. "I don't know what we'd do without y—"

"I don't _care_ what you'd do without me," he interrupted coldly, though there was a subtle note of regret in his voice; Rose bit her lip. "Just do me a favor and don't kill me. Get out of here before tomorrow evening… and never, ever, come back."

* * *

"Tell me what he did to you."

As Rose finally closed the door quietly behind her to signify the end of her comings and goings for the night, the world froze; her blood ran cold as she stared around at her family, increasingly more alarmed. None of them even seemed to breathe, unable to meet either one another's eyes or her own; how much had they suffered? Just because she couldn't see any marks didn't mean Lunarre hadn't tortured them, after all, and she berated herself for not checking in with them sooner.

"It's… easier to show you," Rosh told her eventually, turning around; as he peeled away his Scattered Bones uniform, Rose's eyes widened: his Sparrowfeathers outfit had been slashed in back to reveal his shoulderblades. As Rosh swept aside his unkempt ponytail, she gasped sharply: into his flesh was carved the perfect likeness of a Scattered Bones mask.

Overcome with revulsion and fascination in equal measure, Rose found herself unable to tear her eyes away from the raised lines in his skin; if anyone found out about the distinctive scars on their backs, they'd never be able to live normal lives again. "Is—is it like that for all of you?" she breathed, unblinking, as she reflected upon this painful condemnation: Eguille, Talfryn, and even Felice all nodded somberly.

"Lunarre's gone now, boss," began Talfryn uncertainly. "There's no sense in…"

"But I should have been there to protect you!" hissed Rose, and he fell silent, his eyes widening; she held her head in her hands, scooting her knees closer to her chest. "Or, if I couldn't have saved you, I sh—I should at least have the same mark," she added, glaring at the ceiling. The words stuck in her throat, but she forced them out; they only hurt so much because they were true, after all.

"Boss… don't say that," coughed Felice, her voice less than a whisper, her dark green eyes brimful of tears; a frown flickered across Rose's face, and she gazed down at Dezel, lying on the floor between the two beds. He'd tell her to shut up, she thought, her frantic heartbeat finally slowing down; he'd remind her that she'd had other things on her mind, that saving the world ranked higher than everything else—that she was his all-important vessel, and she must not let herself come to harm.

Eguille nodded fiercely, and Rose glanced back up at him, distracted by the motion. "I consider our capture a failure on _our_ part, not yours," he added, and there were nods of resolute agreement all around. "In fact, we actually owe you our lives. Again."

Even before he'd finished speaking, Rose shook her head. "If you're indebted to anyone, which I don't buy for a second, it's Dezel," she corrected, returning her gaze to her seraph's oddly serene face. "He held off Lunarre so I could survive long enough to save you. I didn't—I couldn't do anything," added Rose, resting her head briefly on her knees in lingering frustration. "I killed a hellion, but I wouldn't have been able to do it if he hadn't…"

She trailed off as Dezel stirred faintly as though to sit up, and her heart stopped momentarily in a half-pleasurable sensation—an augmentation of the feeling that had bothered her for some time. Trying not to seem too eager, given that her family couldn't see the full scene, she scampered over to kneel at his shoulder, her pulse racing even faster than before. Had he recovered? "Hey, Dezel," she began, softly, in case she was mistaken about his wakefulness.

" _What_ ," he groaned, throwing a lazy arm over his eyes.

Rose grinned despite herself, closing her eyes briefly; even though he hadn't really _gone_ anywhere, she'd missed him more than she'd thought. "About damn time," she told him pointedly, her voice a relieved and somewhat tremulous half-laugh. "I'll let you go back to sleep as soon as you tell me you're all right."

"Let me _sleep_? Not if you keep gushing like that," countered Dezel, moving his arm again and gazing up at her with dry amusement in his blind eyes. (They were actually quite pretty and surprisingly expressive, thought Rose fleetingly.) "Nobody can sleep through that. Not me, and definitely not your family." Rose blinked in momentary surprise, frowning faintly; so he too considered them exclusively her family, not his own. But, more importantly—

"I am _not_ gushing!" she snapped, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, and clenched her feeble fists. "I'm just saying, you did pretty much all the heavy lifting back there. And you know what?" Rose leaned over him to look him intently in the eye, not that it made much of a difference. "I'm totally right. Let me give you some credit for once!"

" _My hero_ ," returned Dezel, a small smile playing on his lips; Rose scowled at him as he sat up, moving gingerly back to lean against the nearby wall. "This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you I've been here the whole time," he added, outright smirking at this point, and crossed his arms. "I like you better when you're overconfident. It's easier to prove you wrong."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Way to make me reconsider ever thanking you," she muttered sullenly, but realized even as she spoke that her family looked completely lost; her heart almost stopped again, a little less pleasantly this time. She shot a half-annoyed glance at Dezel, who didn't look the least bit apologetic. Gods, he was infuriating, but for one reason or another, she couldn't bring herself to be even the slightest bit genuinely angry.

"S-sorry about that," added Rose self-consciously to her family, rubbing the back of her head with an awkward smile. "Eat up, everyone," she added, gesturing to the loaf of stale bread she'd brought back from the kitchen; her family exchanged glances before Talfryn began tearing it apart to distribute.

True to the innkeeper's word, there hadn't been much more than that bread for Rose to take; besides, it would have felt like stealing to take more, given that she could barely afford the room itself—let alone any kind of food. She leaned against the bed as she devoured her meager midnight meal; it didn't taste all that great, but it was better than nothing, and she hadn't eaten since before they'd sneaked into the castle.

The sound of ripping fabric startled her, but no one else seemed to hear it; she glanced over at Dezel to find him tearing the remains of his shirt away from his body and dropping the rags in a heap next to him. "Got any shirts I can borrow?" he asked, his voice as tense as his muscles, and Rose blinked and swallowed a bite of bread. Such was her relief at his awakening that she hadn't really taken the time to observe his appearance before now; and she could say in all honesty that her seraph sans shirt certainly took some getting used to.

"We're a little short on clothes at the moment, ourselves," she told him, once she could convince her tongue to talk again. "Though… I guess since people can't see you, Eguille could donate his uniform. But for the record," she added, more teasingly, "I don't think anyone would mind if you went without." Over the past half minute or so of careful study, Rose had come to the conclusion that if anyone in her acquaintance besides Zaveid could pull off shirtlessness, it was Dezel.

"Shut up," he retorted, turning a few shades redder, and his fingers twitched as though to pull his hat over his eyes: she snorted through another mouthful of bread, remembering Mikleo's comment from what seemed like so long ago: _find a better comeback_. But, in all fairness, he had no idea how to accept compliments; clearly, he hadn't received enough of them. (Well, she'd fix that.) "Where's my hat?" demanded Dezel as an afterthought, running his hands through his shaggy hair.

"You're the wind-reader, O master seraph," pointed out Rose, crossing her arms with some amusement (though she immediately uncrossed them again), and reached up behind her to pluck his hat up from the bed behind her and twirl it playfully around her finger. "Why don't you tell me?"

" _Give_ me that," growled Dezel, snatching his hat away from her, and put it on his head, holding onto the brim with both hands as though afraid Rose would take it back again. In response, she only beamed at him with all the earnest intensity of her relief and joy; to her delight, the corner of his lips tugged up, and he hid his mouth behind his hand on the pretense of clearing his throat.

As Rose debated punching Dezel lightly in the shoulder, Eguille distracted her with a laugh of his own. "I think I speak for all of us when I say you two fight like an old married couple," he chortled; Rose glanced up at her family to find amused nods all around, and even Felice offered a wan smile. As Dezel stiffened next to her, Rose shook her head in affectionate annoyance; they hadn't had the privilege of hearing half the arguments she'd witnessed.

"Oh, you should see Mikleo and Edna," laughed Rose, momentarily lost in nostalgia (choosing not to think about how long it would be until they met up with her friends again); but something else occurred to her even as she said it. "But seriously," she added, turning back to Dezel as he edged away, "you seem totally fine, so why'd it take so long for you to wake up? I was worried sick!"

But before Dezel could answer, Talfryn cleared his throat. "This is really interesting and stuff, but I'm gonna help my sister take a bath before this gets any weirder," he announced, looking slightly alarmed as he stood up with Felice. "You two have fun, though, I guess?"

"Fun," muttered Rose as the twins disappeared into the adjacent room, Talfryn ushering his sister inside before pulling the screen in front of it somewhat protectively. "Right."

"Elixir may be a miracle drug, but it's no substitute for sleep," explained Dezel as if nothing had happened, stretching before settling back again; he didn't trouble to raise his voice as the sound of running water from the washroom almost drowned it out, so Rose moved slightly closer to hear. "I'd just been beaten half to death, that's all, and turning scratches into scars doesn't exactly energize me."

"Oh, good," remarked Rose, letting out a sigh of relief that hitched at the end with the sudden realization of how such a comment might be misconstrued. "Not the 'beaten half to death' part!" she amended hastily, and Dezel bared his teeth in a smile. "I was just worried that it had something to do with, you know, the malevolence." As her seraph frowned, she rested a hand over her core uncertainly. "There was a heaviness… here. I thought it might have still been affecting you while you were out."

"Malevolence?" frowned Dezel, crossing his arms. "I could sense it, but I didn't _feel_ it; that was all you. Which reminds me, you should probably have gotten that looked at sooner," he added, sitting forward and reaching his fingers towards her bite mark as though to brush her hair out of the way and touch it—but halted almost as soon as he started, dropping his hand.

Rose raised her hand to touch the bite herself, half-consciously, as Dezel's fingers instead busied themselves with tracing the crisscrossed cords on the outside of his pants. "Did Lunarre… corrupt me?" she asked nervously, swallowing.

Dezel shook his head haltingly. "No," he responded carefully, but there was a hesitation in his voice Rose didn't like, and she braced herself for the dreaded _however_. "But from what I could tell, he gave himself… let's say… a foothold in your psyche. Something he could use to play you against yourself."

 _I know how to spread the poison better than a seraph ever could_ , his voice whispered in her ear once more, and she shuddered. It was true that he'd caused a lot of inner turmoil that night, and that way malevolence lay; but she hadn't imagined he could use it in such a way. "He didn't control me at all," she realized, her voice hushed to her ears. "I twisted the knife… myself."

"Also no," Dezel told her, leaning forward intently. "He may not have _controlled_ you, but that doesn't mean you acted of your own free will, either. He cultivated that violence inside you—but at the end of the day, you're still pure, and that says a lot." He sighed. "You didn't do anything wrong, Rose. The bastard got what he deserved, anyway… and best of all, he brought it on himself."

Rose nodded hesitantly, reassured, and opened her mouth to say as much; but Dezel wasn't done. "I'm just trying to figure out how you could produce that much malevolence in that short a time," he muttered, though he seemed to be talking half to himself. "Not enough to corrupt you… but you're still my vessel, so why didn't I feel it too…?"

Shaking her head, Rose turned her attention to Eguille and Rosh to find them scrutinizing her carefully, with no sign of retiring for the night; she pursed her lips thoughtfully, returning their stares. If they were going to stay up anyway, she may as well glean a little necessary information: "Hey," she began. "Other than Lunarre's little gift, have either of you found any iris gems lately? Because as it turns out, we kinda need them to save the world."

Well, _that_ had definitely sounded better in her head; both pairs of eyes widened in alarm, and Dezel actually stopped muttering to himself momentarily to shake his head at her before lapsing back into his thoughts. "N-no," responded Rosh, shaking his head along with Eguille. "I'm sorry, boss."

"But if I had to guess, I'd say the best chance we have is to check out the other offerings in the shrinechurch," put in Eguille, regarding the floor through contemplatively narrowed eyes. "Lunarre mentioned that there've been a lot more than usual lately, since the people are getting desperate—and there are plenty of rich folk in this city."

"We might have covered the innermost hall," added Rosh, his expression brightening slightly, "but there could still be a few treasures the priests keep for themselves, and iris gems are rarer than Elixir."

Rose nodded thoughtfully; that sounded like a good place to start… but she couldn't risk involving her family further. "Either way, I want all of you to stay safe," she added, crossing her arms sternly. "If there are any more iris gems to be found in Pendrago, I'll find them myself. And if you find out any other information, that's great and all, but don't strain yourselves. Capiche?"

Eguille and Rosh exchanged a long glance, but eventually nodded, albeit hesitantly. "Yes, boss," they murmured reluctantly, almost mutinously; but she stared each of them down in turn, and there was sincerity among the suspicion in their eyes: they would not betray her like Lunarre, and that was good enough for her.

"Bring Talfryn and Felice up to speed when they get back, will you?" finished Rose, stretching, and crawled over to position herself by Dezel's legs: he shifted in place, his breeze caressing her warily as she smiled faintly and took hold of his boots. Time to turn the tables; he'd fallen on her so much more often that it was about time she returned the favor again.

"You going somewhere?" asked Rosh apprehensively, scratching his head as she walked backwards on her knees, dragging Dezel towards her with all her limited strength. To her amazement, he did not fight back (though nor did he help her); he only gave a growling sigh of resignation, holding his hat over his face as he slid down the wall and then along the floor.

"Yeah," replied Rose, adjusting him carefully in between the two beds and kneeling between his feet. "To _sleep_ ," she added, letting herself fall forward onto his torso… except she barely had time to congratulate herself, let alone make herself comfortable, before he brushed his hat aside and flipped her over in one fluid motion—crushing her for the second time in as many hours—and then flopped onto his back again, off to the side, with a small but self-satisfied smile.

Gods, this floor was cold; but at least her humiliation at losing a one-sided competition kept her warm for the time being. "You gotta stop throwing yourself at me like that," grumbled Rose, remembering vividly the last couple times he'd landed on top of her, and rubbed her aching ribs spitefully. "I was just trying to even the score a little, but no, you just had to go and one-up me again!"

" _Who's_ throwing himself at you?" returned Dezel dryly, raising an eyebrow, and Rose grinned at the double meaning. "I was protecting you to preserve us both. Lunarre was tracking you all over Glenwood for a taste of your blood on the orders of some psycho." He gave a roll of his shoulders that might have been a horizontal shrug. "Apples and oranges."

"Both fruit," pointed out Rose rolling onto her side to smile at him as obnoxiously as she could; he turned his back on her, so she reached out to poke his shoulderblade with the pad of her finger. This may have been dangerous territory, but it was nonetheless interesting; even though she'd lost track of the metaphor by now, it was important that she keep this conversation going somehow. "And both delicious."

This did not escape Dezel's notice. "What do you _want_ ," he growled, rolling back over and flinging an arm out to smack into her diaphragm by way of warning; she coughed, shoving the offending limb away, and he gave a barely noticeable smirk as he withdrew it again. "If you want sleep, I can help out," he continued, mockingly menacing. "I'll just remove all the air from your lungs till you black out, and then—"

"Okay, okay, apples and oranges!" interrupted Rose, but choked on a yawn mid-insistence. "Spoilsport," she added sullenly, poking his side before realizing what she was doing and pulling her fingers back hastily. She had no idea what compelled her to keep touching him like that; his skin was smooth and surprisingly soft, and she'd never really thought about it before. Then again, she hadn't had much cause to do so, given that she could count the times she'd touched his bare skin on one hand.

Oh, so _that_ was it; she was just making up for lost time. Hopefully, he'd understand and forgive her (ha, ha). "But seriously, this floor is even colder and harder than your heart," persisted Rose plaintively, and Dezel muttered something indistinct that sounded like _here we go_ … but he didn't seem to be addressing her, so she continued: "Is it really too much to ask for you to be my pillow one more time?" she asked. "Pretty please, with a rosebud on top?"

Dezel let out a long breath, shaking his head. "Fine," he muttered, shifting in place in preparation for her next onslaught. "But _only_ if you find me a shirt as soon as possible," he added. "I can't re-manifest until our connection is stable, and I'm not going to wander around half-naked in the meantime."

Rose had no idea what he was talking about—re-manifestation?—but it didn't matter anymore; she wouldn't be able to concentrate enough to listen to an explanation anyway. She considered saying something to the effect of _t_ _hank you, O almighty wind spirit,_ but settled for a soft and genuine "Thanks, Dezel," instead. After all, if she wanted him to cooperate, she couldn't afford to offend him.

"Just… get it over with," responded Dezel, and Rose wasn't sure what he meant by that until she lowered herself cautiously onto his shirtless torso, whereupon she reflected that arranging herself on top of him in slow motion was _much_ more awkward than just diving onto him as usual.

There was something distinctly sensual about it, she thought distractedly, as she tried to pinpoint the exact issue; maybe it was the gradual friction of making themselves comfortable against one another, or maybe it was Dezel's state of comparative undress… but either way, Rose could feel her senses heightening to an almost unbearable level, and found herself thinking it'd be less painful if he took her breath away like he'd threatened instead of like this.

Ordinarily, she knew from experience that this kind of receptiveness made it extremely difficult to sleep; but thankfully, she was just exhausted enough that her powers of observation dulled again before too long. Besides, as much as Dezel's presence seemed to agitate her, there was something comforting about it, too. Such strange contradictions—just like high spirits amid restless intensity, the calm amid the inner turmoil that generated no malevolence…

Rose felt a metallic click somewhere deep in her soul, like an unlocking door; but on her way through her mind to find it, she stumbled into a dream full of incomparable fruit instead, and her train of thought left her far behind.

* * *

 _Good lord, this chapter was supposed to be so much shorter. Here's some exposition and maybe even a little foreshadowing, but mostly just a concoction of unwinding and winding up._

 _ **N:**_ _Believe it or not, I didn't intentionally write that coordination; everyone just collaborated and I was over on the sidelines with a notebook and pen being like "Oh… I guess that's how it's supposed to be? Cool." And so it goes. But Lunarre makes me nervous, too._

 _ **Straya:**_ _*brings tea* I don't know if there's any particular help I can offer beyond continuing to write more, but I'll try not to kill you. No promises, though. There'll be a couple doozies ahead of us._


	28. Chapter 27: Flux

Long ago, whenever Rose had whined that she was bored, Brad would always chuckle affectionately and tell her that boredom was a luxury. Not until just now had she realized what exactly he meant.

It had been awhile since the world had allowed her to awaken gradually; as wakefulness washed over her in gentle waves, Rose found herself actually smiling in anticipation of the day to come—full of promise instead of events. There were still plans to be made, of course, and they'd have to clear out by nightfall; but overall, today felt almost like a vacation in comparison to what Rose had been dealing with lately. Lunarre was dead; her family was safe; and all was right with the world… except for this perpetual storm.

And even that didn't seem so bad, as Rose eased herself into consciousness; this was actually a nice change of pace, lying here lazily and listening to Dezel's slow and steady heartbeat beneath her ear, the sound intermingling with that of the rain on the roof above her—until… "Sleep well?" mumbled Dezel sardonically, evidently sensing her wakefulness, and stirred beneath her.

Rose reluctantly opened her eyes, having been savoring the sensation of half-consciousness, and gave a small sigh into his bare skin. As he shivered instinctively, she couldn't help but laugh lightly at the reflexive motion, but that only made things worse; this time, he seized up and pushed her off altogether.

Sprawling on the floor, Rose glanced around at the beds to find them still full; the Scattered Bones yet slumbered, so she'd better be quiet. "Yeah, I slept fine," she yawned, sitting up to stretch her aching muscles. "What about—you?" she managed, falling back to lean on her hands.

"On this floor, with someone like _you_ holding me down all night?" he snorted, hugging his arms around his midriff as though cold; Rose momentarily entertained the thought of yanking a blanket off the nearest bed and throwing it over him, but decided against it: she didn't want to wake anyone, after all. "Hardly."

A smile tugged at Rose's mouth as a terrible joke flitted across her newly wakeful mind; Lailah would be proud. "Oh, I get it," she giggled, rapping her knuckles on the floorboards pointedly (albeit as quietly as possible). "Because the ground is _hard_?"

Dezel rolled his blind eyes, hiding his face in his hand. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," he muttered, shaking his head in exasperation—resentment veiling amusement in his tone. " _Anyway_ , I'm going back to sleep," he continued, yawning widely. "Stay away from me unless your life is in danger, or I'll endanger it for you."

Though grudging affection edged his admonition, Rose's confidence faltered abruptly, and she bit her lip as she realized that she hadn't had an openly kind word from him all morning. In the aftermath of Dezel's recovery, she'd forgotten that he didn't typically like being smothered in attention—and given everything he'd done for her, from postponing his mission to sheltering her from Lunarre, he probably thought Rose's behavior was obnoxious to the point of unforgivable.

Really, Dezel would be well justified in disliking her; how long had he lain there that morning, waiting for her to wake up so he could convince her to move? After all, he'd only agreed to let her sleep on top of him in the first place if she found him a shirt; Rose had thought she'd stopped acting so entitled after she learned about everything he'd done for her, but apparently she had a ways to go.

Wait a minute; since when had she cared? This wasn't like her; _Dezel_ was supposed to be the brooding one. Maybe vessels came to resemble their seraphim, or something, because there was no other possible explanation for why Rose had suddenly allowed all her lingering doubts to overwhelm her like this.

Regardless of the reason behind this shift, Rose had to clear the air before Dezel escaped back into slumber. "I don't think you've ever threatened me before," she remarked hesitantly, crawling cautiously to his side—staying a respectful distance away out of newfound concern for his comfort. "Did I do something wrong?" she added, trying to keep her tone light; but she couldn't conceal a note of lingering anxiety.

Dezel let out a long sigh. "Don't worry," he told her dryly, opening one blind eye to gaze at her with guarded expression… though Rose couldn't help noting a peculiar interest in his features. "I haven't changed. _You're_ the one who's suddenly gotten insecure—and this is no time to turn shy." He closed his eyes, the barest hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. "At least your terrible timing is still the same."

Rose rolled her eyes. If anything had stayed the same, it was that he still didn't know how to stop being sarcastic long enough to have a serious discussion with her. " _Sorry_ if I'm trying to avoid annoying you," she hissed, cracking her knuckles out of sheer frustration. "It won't happen again. I'll just keep doing my own thing from now on, and if you don't like it, tough."

"Good," returned Dezel, evidently satisfied, and Rose frowned as he closed his eyes without another word. Of all the things she could have said to appease him, that had been about the last one she'd thought would do the trick.

She shook her head, scowling. "Let me know when it's safe to come near you again," she muttered crossly. Today had started off so well, too; but with this many conflicting (not to mention confusing) emotions bubbling in her soul, she supposed it had been unrealistic to assume the dominant one would always be positive. Or that all her interactions with Dezel would be as full of playful banter as last night.

Shaking her head to stir herself from her restless thoughts, Rose let out a long sigh and lay back to stare at the ceiling. She had a lot of strategizing to do, and if Dezel felt like staying out of the way, so much the better.

* * *

…Except, apparently, that _staying out of the way_ was code for _possessing her consciousness even while unconscious_. Try as she might, Rose couldn't concentrate on their next step; Dezel kept hijacking her train of thought, and it was all she could do to wrest control from his half-gloved grasp.

She might have understood if her mind had snagged on their exchange after she'd first awakened, but no; that would make too much sense. Instead, her thoughts tended towards Dezel in his entirety, standing solidly in the middle of her inexplicable maelstrom of emotions. As her mind continually refused to move beyond his presence both in her mind and outside of it, Rose found herself glancing over at him more and more often… until finally her eyes came to rest on his face one last time, and there they stayed.

It was so easy to forget that Dezel wasn't human, she reflected, narrowing her eyes contemplatively; had not his lips parted slightly to reveal the tips of his jagged teeth, she might have thought him a mortal like herself. His chest may rise and fall in the deep breaths of slumber, just like the rest of her family; but they'd all breathe their last so much sooner than he. Even Rose… even his vessel.

She shivered, shaking her head in a desperate attempt to steer her thoughts away from the inevitabilities of the future, but she had little choice save to acknowledge that her lifespan was _incredibly_ brief compared to Dezel's. Even if—when—they all survived this mess, he would still outlive her by several thousand years; Rose's breath caught painfully as she realized that as inextricably linked as their lives may be for now, they could not stay that way forever.

Hugged her knees to her chest, she glared fiercely at nothing; even before Dezel had set his soul on vengeance, he'd still chosen her, even though she couldn't see him—but _why_? Had it been just because he couldn't find anywhere else to live? Could someone fated to die within such a tiny fraction of a seraph's lifetime ever be more to them than a place of residence…?

Rose took a deep and shuddering breath, forcing herself to calm down before she got any more carried away; there was absolutely no reason for her to jump straight into despair like this. Maybe Dezel had a point, she thought wearily, burying her forehead in her knees; she _had_ gotten a lot more insecure lately, and all that nervous energy seemed to be centered around him. The sooner they formalized their bond, the sooner she could stop fretting.

"I can feel you freaking out from here," mumbled Dezel, opening one eye, and Rose turned her head to face him so quickly her neck cracked, her heart momentarily freezing in her chest. Gods, didn't anything get past him? "Do you really need to be within arm's length of me all the time?"

Despite the sincere undercurrent carrying his dry tone, a far cry from the derision she expected, Rose glowered at him nonetheless; why must he witness all her weakest moments? " _No_ ," she snapped, before remembering that her family had not yet awakened, and lowered her voice in a hurry as she glanced around nervously. "Go back to sleep," she continued, more quietly. "I'm just… thinking, that's all."

"I thought you hated thinking," responded Dezel, sitting up, and placed his hat carefully onto his head; a warm wind wrapped around her shoulders like a blanket, and she found herself shivering despite his welcome heat. "You should try talking it out instead," he suggested. "It'll probably make you feel better, and I can listen."

Rose bowed her head. Should she risk confiding in someone so close to the heart of the matter? Insisting she was fine wouldn't do; Dezel was observant enough that she'd probably only cause him pain by trying to conceal her own. Ultimately, she had no choice but to at least try to disentangle her emotions.

"You… said you didn't hate me," she began uncertainly, unable to articulate the true nature of her anxiety. After all, how could Rose explain that she'd somehow come to care about Dezel's opinion of her on a deep enough level that it disrupted her ability to think straight? A possibility prodded at the edge of her mind, but she ignored it; this wasn't the time for distractions.

"This again?" asked Dezel, genuinely surprised, and stared her down; but Rose shifted in place restlessly, unable to meet his sightless eyes. "I told you, I _can't_. None of this is your fault, Rose," he insisted, leaning slightly forward and drawing her attention back to him. "Have I ever given you any reason to think otherwise?"

"No, but I mean…" she tried to explain, the heat rising automatically to her cheeks at the earnestness of his expression, but shook her head in agitation. "Why did you make me your vessel all those years ago?" she asked eventually, looking up with an effort to meet his blind eyes. "Of all the things you could have chosen, you chose me. A human. Something… _mortal_."

Dezel's jaw tightened as if her last phrase had been physically painful to hear, but he did not look away from her. "Of all the things I could have chosen," he murmured, "I chose you—a human—because I could tell you'd be able to handle it." He paused, gazing at her intently, as his breeze caressed her cheek. "Don't go proving me wrong, now."

"I'm not!" insisted Rose, letting out a short breath of frustration. "I just… realized a couple things, all right? I never thought too much about the far future like this before. 'Once all this is over', that kind of thing." She shook her head. "You'll live so much longer without me than you will _with_ me—so I was wondering if you'll just slip into someone else, after I'm gone."

The words were out before she could stop them, and she gave a gasp a little like a sob, resting her fingers hesitantly on her mouth. Dezel opened his mouth slightly as if to say something, swaying in place as if hesitant, but evidently convinced himself to move and crouched next to her. "For a seraph, a vessel isn't just a place to live; it's a sacred connection between the realms," he told her sharply. "You're asking if I'm going to give away my soul."

"Well, you gave it to _me_ ," insisted Rose stubbornly, struggling to stand her ground under his stare (or sit her ground, she supposed). "Just because I could handle it, apparently." She kept the skepticism in her voice as light as she could, emphasizing his words as delicately as possible, but could not filter it out completely: his eyes might have narrowed, and he turned his face away.

Eventually, Dezel let out a long sigh, glancing back at Rose. "I gave it to you because… I saved you," he told her haltingly, reluctantly. "You might have died if not for me, so I wanted to make sure nothing like that ever happened to you again. I sensed the potential for you to grow strong, so I decided to help out." He paused. "If I find another helpless human, maybe I'll make them my vessel someday. But I…" He swallowed convulsively. "I can't replace you. Nothing can replace you."

But as he spoke of strength and potential, something stirred at the edge of Rose's memory, and she felt herself frown as though out of control of her actions… as she had been many times before, whenever Dezel's will had overpowered her own. But ever since he'd used that ability to save her life, she'd put his past transgressions out of her mind; in fact, she almost found herself accepting his unacceptable actions of the past, putting herself down in his place. Could her own petty annoyances and inadvertent hindrances really be enough to even their score…?

"Th-that's a nice sentiment and all," Rose told Dezel finally, crossing her arms in thought; there would be plenty of time to arrive at a more concrete conclusion later. "But you had to have put me in danger about a bazillion times ever since you got obsessed with vengeance," she added, watching her seraph's expression closely as it darkened. "What's up with that?"

To her astonishment, Dezel only grimaced and hid his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes with a gruntlike sigh. "I can't explain any more than I already have, and I won't apologize," he growled. "It's impossible to justify everything I've done for my friends over the years, especially to _you_. There's no use pressing the point."

"What happened to talking it out?" asked Rose, raising an eyebrow, but could not prevent herself from smiling slightly as her seraph shook his head in exasperation. "I thought you said it'd make me feel better."

"Yeah, but it's making _me_ feel worse," muttered Dezel, though he did not seem any more resentful than usual. "I'm already standing trial for all this later, remember?" he pointed out, and Rose's smiled widened despite herself: he visibly relaxed at the gesture, and that in turn set her mind at ease. "So can we move on for now?"

"Selfish," chided Rose, daring to scoot slightly closer; though he wavered in place as she pushed his shoulder lightly, he did not shy away from her. "First you find a vessel you'll outlive by thousands of years, and now you won't even let her ask questions in the meantime? Shame on you."

"Now you're just picking on me," complained Dezel, though the most prominent emotion in his voice was actually relief. "This is stupid. You shouldn't be worrying about us right now. The Shepherd and the Scattered Bones need your attention a lot more, anyway."

"Believe me, I tried to give it to them," Rose sighed, shaking her head. "But I kept getting… distracted, before I actually made any progress. The farthest I got was thinking that if we're gonna get out of here, we're gonna need outside help to do it," she rushed on, before Dezel could interrupt her. "The guards'll be after us for sure, and it'll be a miracle if they _don't_ search the inn—but getting out of here before it's dark will be dangerous, too."

Dezel pursed his lips. "The Platinum Knights are a little short of staff at the moment," he responded pointedly, and Rose's eyes widened as she suddenly recalled Lunarre's slaughter: she shuddered at the memory of blood and fire. "And Sorey and the others shouldn't be all that long behind us. It might actually be best if we waited here awhile."

Rose blinked in surprise. When was the last time _Dezel_ had advocated for passivity? "Are you seriously suggesting we do nothing?" she asked, scratching her head. "Not that I'm against that or anything, but it seems… unlike you."

But Dezel only shrugged. "Hey, you're the boss. I'm just saying, this situation has too many outcomes to plan out effectively, so it might be a waste of time to try it." He moistened his lips in thought. "If any soldiers come here, I'll sense them, and I'll be able to tell you the safest escape route when it happens." He offered Rose an awkward grin. "Pretty handy to have a wind seraph on your side, huh."

"Yeah, and then we can wing it from there!" she exclaimed, pounding a fist into her hand, but remembered abruptly that her family still slept only after Felice stirred faintly. Rose dropped her hands into her lap and fidgeted uncomfortably; she may be the boss, but she was still the youngest: her status wouldn't prevent her family from giving her a talking-to about quiet hours.

But instead, Felice only smiled and stretched. "Morning, boss," she remarked; Rose beamed at her in relief as she realized that her voice was as clear and strong as it could be so soon after awakening: so the Elixir had helped heal her, after all. "I don't think I've ever seen you this excited this early," she added, propping herself up on one elbow. "You must have a plan."

Rose nodded resolutely. "I'll tell you once everyone else is awake," she whispered, gesturing for Felice to lie back down; Dezel smiled in her peripheral vision, and she echoed the gesture automatically. "Get some more rest if you can," she added, exchanging a glance with her seraph. "I've got a little more thinking to do."

* * *

Once everyone had awakened, several hours later, Rose's explanation went about as well as could be expected: not very. None of the Scattered Bones were especially comfortable with "waiting around to be captured again", as Eguille put it; Rose could understand their unwillingness to place their shattered trust in an invisible being, but at the same time, what better choice did they have?

"Look, I'm not going to make Dezel prove his existence by doing tricks for you like a circus dog," Rose told them all, somewhat impatiently, and crossed her arms; Dezel blinked at her in apparent surprise, but she couldn't afford to break eye contact with her family to look over at him. "Especially not after all he's done for us. If you don't want to trust him, I guess that's fine; but you should at least trust _me_."

There was a long silence before Talfryn finally broke it to speak for all of them, shifting uncomfortably in place. "Yes, boss," he mumbled, hanging his head like a scolded puppy. "I understand."

Rose couldn't help but smile at the gesture. "Chin up," she told him, reaching out to tap his jaw; he looked up at her, startled. "I get it, okay? The hardest work for us has always been doing nothing. But in this case, just one toe out of line could kill us all, and it's a lot harder to misstep if you don't move… right?"

Talfryn nodded, braving a smile, and the other Scattered Bones with him—and that was the end of that. The plan had been agreed upon, albeit hesitantly, and all that was left to do was carry it out. But staying put didn't mean they couldn't make any progress in other matters, however small.

"In the meantime," continued Rose, leaning down to pluck the iris gem out of her bag, "any idea where Lunarre got this beauty?" Sitting on the edge of Eguille and Rosh's bed, she tossed the spectral sphere into the air and caught it with one hand. "I mean, did he beat us to the offerings already?" she prompted, glancing around at them all curiously. "Because if so, we'll need a new plan."

Eguille shook his head haltingly. "He ransacked our stock just before he took us captive, and took everything he liked for himself," he explained bitterly. "I'd say that's the one we bought from Zod the jeweler, a few weeks ago."

Rose nodded; so the offerings would still be a good place to start. That idea certainly added another layer of complexity to their plan; but the most important thing was still to get her family out of Pendrago in one piece. After all, she could always come back later—or, depending on a number of factors, she could collaborate with Sorey and Alisha. Her heart skipped a beat as she remembered her friends; gods willing, their mission had gone as well as her own.

"So _how_ exactly are iris gems going to save the world?" asked Talfryn, frowning, his voice breaking into her thoughts. "You kinda… skipped that part," he added, sitting down on his bed at the same time as Felice.

"I… don't actually know," admitted Rose, letting out a long breath; Dezel crossed his arms and leaned against the wall thoughtfully. "The old man told us to gather them up and bring them all to Lohgrin. He said something about knowing our enemy, but I have no idea what he meant by that, and he wouldn't explain anything."

"That sounds just like him," smiled Felice reminiscently. "Is he doing all right?" she added, more concernedly, and Rose couldn't keep herself from flinching, setting down the iris gem before she could drop it. "I don't think any of us have seen Mayvin since the day you came home with the Shepherd."

Oh no. Rose hadn't told her family about Sorey's involvement in the current state of world affairs, let alone her own; and if she confessed that the last time they'd met with Mayvin hadn't been on the best of terms, they'd probably ask all kinds of questions she couldn't hope to answer.

As great a liar as Rose could be, this had hit a little too close to home for her to make her act a convincing one: "Uh, y-yeah," she managed, grimacing by way of smile, and ran her fingers through her unkempt hair. "He's doing… great. But I'm gonna go take a bath now, okay?" added Rose hastily, seizing on the nearest distraction—doing her best to ignore the guilt flooding her heart.

"Boss?" asked Rosh, crossing his arms, and exchanged a perplexed glance with Eguille; Rose could not meet any of their curious eyes. "Are you… all right?"

"Just fine, thanks," she responded a little too quickly, offering them all an insincere salute; her eyes quickly slid to her seraph, leaning against the wall some distance away. "Oh, and Dezel, keep your winds to yourself," she ordered as an afterthought, turning around in the doorway to face him.

"Hey, that was _one time_ ," growled Dezel, and she tossed a smile over her shoulder. "And it was an accident!" He wasn't such a great liar himself, thought Rose wryly; his defensiveness was just as incriminating as all the other evidence. She considered correcting him that it had been twice now, and she wasn't sure either one had been accidental—but instead settled for giving the 'I'm-watching-you' signal, and pulled the screen in front of the doorway.

Contrary to what her family probably thought, she'd had enough of thinking for the day: Rose had already stressed herself out more than enough, what with considering the myriad uncertainties of the distant future. No; it was time to see if she could relax long enough to rediscover the feeling she'd lost upon awakening—that all was well between herself and her seraph… and that maybe, if this luck held up, everything else would turn out okay, too.

* * *

 _Speaking of chapters that go on longer than expected, I actually had to split this one in two! Jeez, I just can't cut their interactions short, can I?_

 _ **AngryReptileKeeper:**_ _You really didn't have to go to all that trouble just to review, but thanks anyway! Do try not to drool on my story, though, haha._

 _ **N:**_ _Oh yeah, we're definitely getting closer to an upgrade, but there are still quite a few complications to hash out. And if they stay in a ritzy inn after all this is over, which I could totally see (assuming such a thing exists in Glenwood), I'll stick it in the sidequest story! I get the feeling a lot of those chapters will be written and posted after this tale is done, though. For being as scatterbrained as I am, I sure have a one-track mind sometimes._

 _ **Straya:**_ _As this chapter showed, Rose unfortunately keeps finding things to think about that just barely miss that mark. I really wish I could stop her from doing that, because if you're starting to get impatient for them to get together, imagine how I feel writing it. But please, by all means, add shirtless Dezel to your art list!_


	29. Chapter 28: Finders Keepers

"Rose," called Dezel as if from a great distance, and her eyes flew open as she realized that the water had turned lukewarm around her. Had she fallen asleep? "Get your ass out of the bath," he continued, and unless she was much mistaken, there was amusement in his voice. "There's someone to see you."

" _Who_ wants to see my ass?" shot back Rose, pulling the plug and getting to her feet unsteadily; Dezel offered no audible response. "Is there trouble?" she added more impatiently, stepping out of the tub and reaching for her towel in a hurry. (He could stand to be a tad more forthcoming about these things, she thought ruefully.) "Are we in danger?"

"Nope," returned Dezel, and Rose frowned, pulling on her clothes hastily. He had to have been telling the truth, of course, or else there would be a commotion from the other room; but then, whom besides her enemies would want to see her? She strapped on her knives just in case; Dezel didn't sound too concerned, but it wouldn't hurt to be prepared. "Sergei just brought us a couple presents, that's all."

" _Sergei_?" exclaimed Rose, brushing her hair out of her face and sliding the screen door aside; that might mean trouble if he'd gone back on his word. "And what do you mean, presen…" she began, sliding the screen aside again, and immediately stopped short as she heard two sets of rapidly approaching footsteps. The Scattered Bones sat up alertly on their beds, glancing to her as if for instruction—but Rose could offer none, save to tense up and reach for her knives.

But her eyes widened as a voice spoke softly from behind the door, accompanied by a billowing breeze that definitely didn't belong to Dezel, and she gestured for the Scattered Bones to stand down: these newcomers were not their enemies. "This one?" asked Sorey's voice, and Rose grinned in sheer relief; that was a sound for sore ears, to be sure. "He said the room in the back, and this is about as far back as back goes."

"There's only one way to find out," smiled Alisha's soft voice, and Rose let out a long and laughlike breath at the realization that they'd both pulled through; after this morning's slightly more serious interlude, this kind of ecstatic relapse was more than welcome. Everyone was safe!

"It's definitely this one," agreed Zaveid's voice, and Rose realized that he'd been the source of this new wind—finding herself grateful that Dezel had roused her from her bath. Better him than the other wind seraph in her acquaintance, anyway, and far better by voice than breeze. "I'd know those dangerous curves anywhere. Ouch!"

"Emphasis on _dangerous_ ," remarked Edna, and Mikleo chuckled at Zaveid's expense; as Rose approached the door rapidly, her feet skimming cloud nine, Lailah giggled and murmured something that sounded suspiciously like _repeat after me_ —followed by some indistinct whispering.

"M-my love?" began Sorey uncertainly; glancing around at her family to ensure their approval (they all nodded hesitantly), and rolling her eyes, Rose laughed aloud and opened the door before Lailah's little charade could get out of hand. "I mean—ah!" he exclaimed, as Rose seized his wrist and dragged him into the room, throwing him enthusiastically aside and gesturing for Alisha to come in as well.

"Awww, and I had an entire speech worked out, too," pouted Lailah, stamping her foot in plaintive frustration as Edna shut the door behind them. Rose took a moment to gaze at Sorey and Alisha, drinking in their real and true presence; although wayworn and weary, they mustered smiles nonetheless, and she beamed at them in return. (She hadn't realized how much she'd missed them until just now.)

"I know you guys said you wouldn't be long, but _damn_!" laughed Rose finally, pulling both Sorey and Alisha into a tight hug; each of them yelped, but did not struggle against her. "How'd you manage to follow this hot on our heels?" She gestured for the other seraphim to join her, and was immediately rewarded with Lailah's soft embrace.

Dezel crossed his arms and looked away, while Edna took a careful step back; Rose shrugged to tell them it was their loss. "Oh, I taught Mickey here the basics of windstepping," responded Zaveid airily, shoving Mikleo forward as he opened his mouth to decline, and trapped him in the group hug; the Scattered Bones blinked in confusion in Rose's peripheral vision as all human conversation came to a halt. "It may not be his native element, but he could still pick up enough of Dezel's slack to help me bring a certain captain along too."

"Sergei had just received a summons back to Pendrago when we arrived in Lastonbell," explained Mikleo, his voice somewhat muffled through the embrace. "Something about how the informant against the Scattered Bones killed half his knights. But he didn't want to withdraw his troops and abandon the townsfolk, so we escorted him here instead. And he told us he's not going to search our room," he added, squirming in an attempt to extricate himself. "So we're all safe, at least for the time being. Now, let me _go_!"

In response to his furious request, Lailah obligingly withdrew her arms; Rose took the hint and reluctantly released the airless Sorey and Alisha from their prison of affection. Mikleo finally struggled free of Zaveid's muscular arms shortly afterwards, staggering back to hide behind Edna… but for whatever reason, he wasn't the only shellshocked one: frowning, Rose glanced over at Lailah to find her eyes wide.

"Oh my—Dezel," she gasped, flushing, and flicked out her cards to fan her face as she hastily averted her gaze: Rose smiled in understanding as Dezel turned his breeze accusatorily onto her, but offered no explanation on his behalf. "Wh-what's gotten into you?" And just like that, all attention came to rest on Rose's shirtless seraph; though he pulled his hat lower over his glaring eyes, he said nothing.

"Is there… any special reason you're half-naked?" frowned Sorey, scratching his head, and exchanged a bewildered glance with Mikleo; Rose glanced around self-consciously at her likewise confused family to find Eguille in particular raising an eyebrow as if this explained a lot.

"Must be a wind seraph thing," shrugged Edna, gesturing to the two of them with one hand. "But Dezel's stuck in a physical form, so he can't repair his ordinary outfit till he can live inside Rose. It makes sense that he'd go shirtless in the meantime." She gave the barest hint of a smile, poking Zaveid pointedly in the ribs with her umbrella. "What's _your_ excuse?"

"Hey, at least Dezel and I look good doing it," protested Zaveid, resting a muscular forearm on his fellow wind seraph's shoulder, and tossed his hair. "Digging the scars, by the way," he added, grinning sideways at Dezel, who grimaced at the compliment. "Not sure any of the rest of you could pull all that off," he added, eyeing Sorey and Mikleo doubtfully.

"Don't you _dare_ put me in the same boat as you," snapped Dezel, shrugging off Zaveid's arm and sidestepping to stand next to Rose instead; she raised her eyebrows. "Rose is getting me a shirt as soon as it's safe for her to go out," he continued more calmly (if only slightly), glowering around at the others as if challenging them to insist otherwise. "I don't know how anyone can stand this," he added in a mutter, looking down at himself.

"Stand what, all the adoring stares?" asked Zaveid, tossing Rose a pointed wink; she turned away in a hurry, the heat rising to her cheeks as she realized she hadn't moved her eyes. "You'll get used to 'em. And besides," he added, his eyes still lingering on Rose's face, "it'd be a sin to cover up a figure like yours before the ladies are even done admiring it! Let Rose buy you a shirt on _her_ terms."

"Shut _up_ ," growled Dezel, turning red, but his winds tugged at Rose's tunic with ill-disguised interest; she shifted her focus hastily to Alisha—only to find her leaning against the door, staring intently at the floor before her. Her every muscle was rigid, and one hand rested on the shaft of her spear; Rose's eyes widened as she noted that the Sparrowfeathers had likewise tensed, as if in preparation for a fight. Hadn't they told her about the Scattered Bones…?

"A-Alisha," began Rose tentatively—how could she explain the dual nature of her guild?—but she released her spear and held up a hand as if to tell her to stop, and she halted, glancing at Sorey to find him watching his other Squire carefully. He must have told her, given that he seemed neither surprised nor especially concerned; but if she still reacted with this hostility, then…

"I've been informed of your family's… condition," Alisha told her delicately, meeting her searching gaze resolutely; though Rosh narrowed his eyes, he made no moves either towards or away from the princess. "So I've had some time to consider it. And I've decided that if these people have raised you to be so kind and understanding, then there must be a reason behind all your actions."

She glanced around at them, her expression softening slightly; Rose allowed herself to relax as Eguille rested a conciliatory hand on Rosh's shoulder, and Talfryn and Felice cautiously stood down as well. "I trust you all to act in the interest of the greater good," continued Alisha finally. "You have a strong sense of justice, and I understand better than ever now that sometimes… violence is a necessity."

"About that," responded Rose cautiously, scuffing a foot against the ground; if Sorey and Alisha were both alive and here so soon, she thought she knew the answer to her question, but there hadn't been time to ask for specifics: "Did you… see Maltran?"

Though they all knew exactly what she meant, Rose could not bring herself to be explicit. It had been a sensitive subject for Alisha, after all, and she didn't want to reopen wounds that may or may not have healed. Sure enough, the princess redirected her gaze at the ground, resting her hands before her in her traditional gesture of troubled contemplation—and said nothing.

"She's gone," murmured Sorey eventually, stepping forward to rest a reassuring hand on Alisha's shoulder; Rose pursed her lips in wordless sympathy, but didn't have time to express her pride in the princess before Sorey continued: "But Lailah said you and Dezel would be interested in this." And, after rummaging in his pouch, the Shepherd pulled out that mysterious ring.

Rose's eyes widened in awe as she observed the ornate band of silver, up close and personal; the intricate symbol engraved over and over upon its surface was not any of the four elemental sigils she recognized. She found herself holding out her hand, and Sorey obediently dropped it into her palm; amid her amazement, she kicked herself for not realizing the connection sooner. So _this_ was a pact ring: Rose could feel unknown power coursing through the extraordinarily light silver circle, like an intangible pulse… like it was alive.

She felt a sudden urge to close her hand around it, as though to hide or protect it from the others' prying eyes—but smothered it, and left the ring lying in her open palm. "This explains Maltran's unnatural affinity for deception," remarked Lailah softly, peering closely at Rose's face, but did not mention the impulse she had doubtless seen flicker across it. "Though we still don't know what kind of seraph's power she was using… and there's also no way to tell whether or not she had permission to use it."

Rose shook her head; at least there was one fewer mystery than anticipated. "Lunarre also wore this ring to suppress his malevolence, and we know for sure he's working under a seraph," she told them darkly; Dezel grit his teeth at the mention of his nemesis. "I'd say they had her blessing. Oh, and ding dong, the fox is dead, by the way," she added more brightly, as something of an afterthought.

"You could stand to be a little less casual about that," sighed Dezel in the midst of the otherwise shocked silence that followed, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall as he nodded towards the astonished Alisha; a faint smile of apology tugged at the corner of Rose's mouth. "That battle almost cost us both our lives, and it only happened last night." He traced his new scars restlessly as he spoke, and Zaveid watched the motion carefully, but did not comment.

"It _almost_ cost us both our lives," Rose repeated, putting her hands on her hips triumphantly. "Instead, it just cost us the shirt off your back, and it gained us a dead hellion and an iris gem to boot. Sounds like a win-win-win to me," she laughed teasingly: in the face of sincerity, as they had both so unexpectedly demonstrated this morning, sometimes it was best to act as though nothing had happened.

Zaveid smirked as her seraph opened his mouth to sputter a red-faced retort, but Mikleo interrupted. "Wait—Lunarre had an _iris gem_?" he asked, blinking in surprise, and crossed his arms next to Sorey; Rose realized abruptly that she still held the pact ring, and slipped it into one of her pouches. "That sounds too good to be true."

"And so it would be, if it was just some random coincidence," agreed Rose, standing on one hip. "But no, the bastard apparently raided our stock before he turned in the others, so this one's accounted for. So basically, I just reclaimed our rightful property."

Alisha nodded hesitantly along with Mikleo, and Rose glanced over at her curiously as the princess bit her lip as if repressing something she wanted to say… but evidently thought better of it. "I—I'm so happy you're safe," she burst out finally, clenching her fists, and Rose's eyes widened at the strength of her passion. "I don't know what I'd do if… if that _monster_ had done the same thing to you."

As she spoke, she smoothed her tunic along the row of roses on her skin, perhaps unconsciously; Rose bowed her head, touched by her outburst. "He didn't have time," she assured Alisha, tilting her head and managing a small smile. "Dezel kept him pretty busy before I struck the finishing blow. I may not have been able to torture him the same way he tortured you, but… I think it's safe to say you've been avenged."

"I'm glad you didn't make him suffer," responded Alisha, hugging her arms to herself uncomfortably, and Rose grimaced as she remembered twisting the knife; fortunately, her fellow Squire missed the change in her countenance… but from the looks of things, Lailah did not, her eyes alight with worried curiosity. "There'd have been no need to bring yourself down to his level for my sake."

"Looks like Little Miss Priss is finally warming up to you, Rose," remarked Edna, shouldering her umbrella, and Rose realized with an unpleasant flutter of the heart that her sharp eyes too remained fixed on her traitorous expression. "How nice. Better not disappoint her."

"I'll try not to," returned Rose as evenly as possible, crossing her arms. "But hey, Alisha—I'm really proud of you for… uh, facing the truth like you did," she added haltingly, with hesitant earnestness. "Even if I didn't get to see it, I'm sure you kicked ass." She offered as encouraging a smile as she could muster, and was as delighted as she was surprised as the princess tentatively returned it.

"She did," Sorey assured her, nudging Alisha's shoulder gently. "I could never hope to be half as strong as either of my Squires," he added affectionately, glancing between her and Rose. "Which reminds me, I'm glad you're getting along now." As he crossed his arms with a satisfied grin, the Squires glanced away from one another self-consciously, their accidental rivalry all but forgotten in the warmth of the moment.

"No kidding," agreed Edna, leaning on her parasol. "Took you long enough. Unless the Shepherd just jinxed it, anyway," she added, and Rose couldn't help but smile, gazing over at Alisha cautiously once more to find her fellow Squire doing the same. (They were much more alike than she'd ever wanted to think.)

Lailah hummed, twirling once in contented jubilation. "Well, you know what they say," she twinkled. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." And, as much as she hated clichéd aphorisms, Rose couldn't help but think that this time, there might be some truth to it after all; she'd figured out some time ago that grudges took a lot of maintenance to keep up, and Alisha was no exception. Maybe it would be easier to be friends after all.

"And there goes my chance to see the catfight of the century," lamented Zaveid, shaking his head; as Rose glanced at him, unsure whether to be more amused or annoyed, Dezel only offered a derisive growl. "Come on, don't lie to me," insisted Zaveid mischievously, elbowing his taciturn companion. "Those two would turn heads, yours included. Maybe I'll pay them off someday and prove it."

"You're despicable," snapped Mikleo, crossing his arms; as Alisha blushed and opened her mouth to respond, Rose rolled her eyes: it would be best to change the subject before matters spiraled even further out of control. Fortunately, her mind soon snagged on the pact ring again; she'd probably have to put it on if they wanted results, after all.

" _Okay_ , guys," sighed Rose, interrupting Zaveid mid-justification, and drew the pact ring back out of her pouch by way of distraction, holding it up between two fingers. "Break it up. There are a few more important things to worry about, such as… do you think I should put this thing on?" she asked, peering through the ring like a monocle.

Lailah bit her lip. "I… don't know the exact risks," she confessed, clasping her hands before her. "It could be dangerous, if not malevolent; but I think that's the only way you'll be able to find its twin."

"And that means we'll be able to track that girl," growled Dezel softly, half to himself; but Rose sighed, shaking her head slowly. Even if they found their nemesis, he couldn't take his vengeance until they'd found some way to keep them both alive. It wasn't fair, but it had to be done. Or rather, _not_ done.

"First thing's first, we need to stabilize our pact," Rose pointed out, "which means we need to find a better focus than revenge, which means we need to find the other pact ring. But in order to _get_ that other pact ring," she continued, tilting her head, "we'll need to kill the seraph, which means you'll end up getting your revenge anyway, which means we'll probably both die before we can use it. Lailah!" she exclaimed in exaggerated desperation, shaking the fire seraph's arm plaintively. "What do we do!"

Lailah offered a small smile, prying Rose's fingers gently away. "The seraph doesn't need to be killed," she explained, with a sense of solemn serenity. "Do you remember what Zenrus said? If you can remove the ring from her finger, you won't need to kill her over it. There; problem solved."

Rose sighed, shaking her head. How was she supposed to get that close to someone who wanted her and all her comrades dead for some reason? More broadly, why in the names of all the gods had she found _this_ particular pact ring? "Okay, so it's possible, just _really_ unlikely," Rose corrected herself, exchanging a glance with Dezel. "That is a big relief."

"Either way, you'll still need to put yours on first," remarked Dezel, crossing his arms. "Unless anyone else has a problem with that," he added, clearly daring anyone to voice their objections: Rose glanced around uncertainly. None of the Scattered Bones had enough context to offer any valuable insight, and Alisha could not meet her eyes (Maltran had been using it, after all); but Sorey and his Sub Lords all nodded, albeit hesitantly, and Rose gave them a brave smile.

Satisfied with this response, Dezel rested his hands on her shoulders to steady her, and she took a deep breath. Weighing the pact ring once more in her palm, she hesitated once more before finally slipping it onto her left ring finger, closing her eyes as she did so. Here went nothing…

A cold jolt of energy thrilled through her as she withdrew her other hand: not cold like malevolence, but cold like the moon on crystal, shattering glassy lakes and silver streams—cold like ice, cold like starlight, cold like blades. Rose shuddered as her soul shivered, as though trying to escape some strange external force… but Dezel's grip tightened on her shoulders, and she drew herself out of her struggle, opening her eyes to find him gazing down at her in fierce concern.

"Are you all right?" he asked insistently, and Rose nodded hesitantly, rubbing her frigid finger; the ring didn't seem to absorb any of her body heat, and if she had to deal with this chill for the entire rest of the journey, she'd be the second coldest chick in the party (after Edna). "Can you tell where she is?" pressed Dezel; she frowned, bowing her head and concentrating intently on the ring.

As she did so, she sensed an artificial kind of hunger, as though it was missing something—yearning for it, reaching out directionlessly with a fragment of its silver consciousness—but, though the loss ached, she had no sense how to fill the space: Rose shook her head. "No," she told him, opening her eyes and glancing around at the group to find them all anxious. "Only that she's… far away."

"You'll probably be able to pinpoint her location more accurately as you get used to its power," remarked Lailah, lifting a hand delicately to her chin. "I wouldn't worry about it too much for now; you've done more than enough for today." She giggled faintly, and Rose braced herself. "Unless you'd like to play _ring-around-the-Rosie_?"

There was a pause followed by a collective groan, and Rose could have sworn Talfryn asked what had happened, but the question had been practically drowned out by the sound of her palm colliding with her face. That had been bad, even by Lailah's standards, and that feeling was unanimous: "You've been saving that one ever since we picked up that ring, haven't you," sighed Edna, shaking her head slowly in exasperation. "And just when I thought you couldn't sink any lower, too. Bravo."

Sorey cleared his throat. "Moving _on_ for a moment," he began, echoing Edna's motion. "How does it feel?" he continued apprehensively, crossing his arms, and eyed the ring; tracing his gaze, Rose swayed in place, slightly lightheaded in the aftermath of this new power, but Dezel—still holding her shoulders—steadied her once more. "You look a little pale."

"I'm _fine_ ," insisted Rose, widening her eyes innocently; as terrible as Lailah's pun had been, it had at least changed the subject. As far as she was concerned, it was time to change it back: "But you guys have been traveling forever, so it's about time you stopped standing around and actually settled in," she rushed on, resenting her own lack of subtlety; Sorey's eyes narrowed slightly, but he did not press the matter, and glanced around as if at a loss for where to put his knapsack—one strap still draped over his shoulder.

"Go ahead and just set your stuff wherever," continued Rose, nodding towards the rest of the room; the Scattered Bones echoed the motion enthusiastically, looking relieved that she and Sorey had broken the perceived silence of the seraphim. "Except between the beds," added Rose as an afterthought. "That space belongs to me and Dezel—no Sparrowfeathers, Shepherds, or other Squires and seraphim allowed!"

"Oh, are you two sleeping together?" asked Sorey conversationally, tilting his head, and there was a moment of stunned silence: Rose froze, torn between shock and amusement. (She had wanted a distraction, after all, and the gods had certainly delivered.) After a breathless pause, Dezel let go of Rose's shoulders suddenly, stepped back as if she'd burned him, and inhaled in preparation to respond—but something went down the wrong way, and he ended up coughing instead.

Zaveid whacked him good-naturedly on the back, grinning, and murmured something in his ear; Edna, meanwhile, smirked knowingly as Lailah took to fanning her face once more. Mikleo rubbed his forehead with one hand out of exasperation, and even the pure Alisha seemed to understand; Rose giggled aloud at the stricken expression on her face. "Yes and no," she laughed, as Sorey looked thoroughly confused. "In the sense _you're_ thinking, sure. Not so much any of the others."

The Shepherd frowned. "What other sen…" he began, but caught sight of Zaveid's delighted mischief and shook his head with a rueful smile. "It's some kind of euphemism, isn't it," he sighed, scratching his head, and shot a reproachful glance at his unruliest Sub Lord. "Forget I said anything. I'll take the foot of this bed, if that's all right," he added, addressing its resident Sparrowfeathers.

"Of course," responded Eguille, looking immensely relieved at the prospects of human conversation; Rose tossed a guilty smile in his direction as she realized the extent to which she could no longer empathize: now that she could perceive the seraphim, it was so difficult to imagine their speech replaced by silence, and even more so to include people who could not hear them in her conversations. "I'd offer you the bed itself, but…" He trailed off, exchanging a glance with Rosh.

"I wouldn't take it even if you did," Sorey assured them, shaking his head once. "You're still recovering, after all. I can stand to sleep on the floor," he added, setting down his pack and spreading out his cot; Alisha did the same at the foot of the other bed, smiling somewhat nervously at Felice and Talfryn. "I think we've all slept in worse places. And besides, I'm tired enough that it won't matter anyway."

Even as he spoke, he stifled a yawn, and Rose blinked in recognition of his fatigue; how long had he been standing on ceremony? "Today is nothing if not the day of naps," she remarked pointedly, glancing over at Alisha to find her looking no less exhausted. "You two should take one too, after the journey you've had."

"A-are you sure?" asked the princess, blinking over at her like a startled green-eyed doe. "It seems… amiss… to fall asleep as soon as we're reunited, especially with so much left to discuss," she pointed out, shifting uncomfortably in place. "What about the remaining Earthen Historia? What about your other pact ring?"

"Relax," laughed Rose, gesturing for her to lie down: Alisha did so (more out of necessity than obedience, she thought; but still). "It's like, noon. You won't sleep straight through the night, will you?" she added, glancing back over at Sorey; he shook his head with a smile. "Then there'll be plenty of time to talk this evening. It's only natural that you need a little downtime, literally."

"Thanks, Rose," remarked Sorey, lying back on his cot and patting his heart: his seraphim vanished into him with a glow and a sparkle. "Oh, and sorry about all the, um, shenanigans," he added, craning his neck to address the Scattered Bones: they smiled over at him by way of acceptance… or (knowing Talfryn) perhaps just because 'shenanigans' was a funny word. "Talking to the seraphim, I mean. Once everything's straightened out, I promise we'll be a little more inclusive, but…"

As he trailed off uncertainly, Talfryn chuckled. "Hey, you're the Shepherd, right?" he told him, shrugging nonchalantly. "It comes with the territory, from what I understand. All this talking with invisible friends can be a little hard to follow, but… it's not really our business anyway, you know?"

"In the meantime, hearing only one half of your conversations is nothing if not entertaining," remarked Eguille, laughing, with a sidelong glance at Rose: she colored slightly, recalling that he'd heard her share of her banter with Dezel last night, and wondered what he must think of their relationship—especially given how he'd reacted to hearing of his shirtlessness. "Don't worry about us, Shepherd. You just do what you need to save the world."

"Yeah," agreed Felice, crossing one leg over the other, and leaned back on her hands. "Besides, after everything Lunarre put us through, I think it's for the best that we stay out of your way… unless there's some specific way we can help." She bit her lip as if worried Sorey would ask something of her then and there, but visibly relaxed when he only nodded instead.

"And that's something we can all discuss later," put in Rosh, clearing his throat slightly. "You're all tired, and from the bits and pieces we've picked up, it sounds like you've been on quite an adventure yourself. We'll be quiet while you rest."

"Thanks, guys," yawned Sorey, closing his summer-green eyes with a smile just as lovely; Rose glanced over at Alisha to find that she'd done the same some time ago—and judging by her breathing, she might even have fallen asleep already. "If we're not up in time for dinner, feel free to wake us however you want."

"Sounds good," remarked Rose softly, gazing down at her Shepherd as warmly as Dezel's gentle breeze—but when she glanced over at him, wondering if that was how he was watching her, he turned his head away too quickly for her to tell. "I'm sure the world will still be here when you wake up."

* * *

 _Ugh, the flu is terrible; the vast majority of this was done before I came down with it, but of course not enough to post the damn thing, and I could only finish it now that I'm feeling well enough to write. (Not well enough to function in basically any other capacity, but progress is progress.)_

 _Anyway, I had to split this chapter in two, too—which means that counting the next one in line, the events of four chapters were originally supposed to happen in just one. Just a fun fact, I suppose. Gods, does my writing process telescope._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Such is the nature of infatuation, I've noticed. Rose honestly isn't paying the Scattered Bones much attention right now, and at least they were asleep this morning; but yeah, it's gotta be weird seeing Rose trip over herself without any idea what's making her do it (though Eguille is pretty sharp). And oh goodness, I didn't actually notice that they'd sneaked Gaius into the museum! I thought that statue looked familiar, but I couldn't place where I'd seen him before. It all makes sense now._

 _ **N:**_ _Yup, their relationship is… special, to be sure. There are definitely fewer secrets to keep at this point, for which everyone is grateful._

 _ **CWolf2:**_ _Thanks! It's getting a lot harder to keep track of so many people, but at least I have the excuse that Rose isn't always paying attention to everyone._


	30. Chapter 29: What's in a Name

Having resolved to pay more attention to her human companions in light of her almost exclusive focus on Dezel and the other seraphim, Rose engaged herself in quiet conversation with the Scattered Bones for as long as Sorey and Alisha lay sleeping… until finally, Talfryn inquired (as though he'd been holding in the question all day) why exactly she'd asked who wanted to see her ass earlier that morning—and she realized abruptly the problems posed by their differences in resonance.

"Let's see you try to get out of this one without me," snorted Dezel, baring his teeth in an unsettling grin: though the instinct to tell him to shut up was overwhelming, Rose instead continued in her previous resolution to ignore him altogether—even though that had been the first thing he'd said to her ever since he'd practically choked upon Sorey's accidental innuendo.

"Uh," she began, running her hands through her thankfully recently brushed hair, and felt her cheeks burn as she recalled the situation. "Dezel said to get my ass out of the tub, because there was someone here to see me," responded Rose, as levelly as she could; it was easier with her eyes closed. "That was what woke me, y'know, so that was my brilliant answer."

"Oh, that makes more sense," laughed Talfryn, sounding incredibly relieved, and she opened her eyes again. "It was just that Sorey asked if you were sleeping together, so… I mean…" Dezel stirred and opened his mouth as though to say something, but closed it immediately and shook his head, evidently thinking better of it. "I was just wondering whether we had a cross-species brother-in-law, or something."

"Not even close," Rose assured him, leaning back against the bed, and fixed her gaze on the ceiling; Dezel's breeze brushed her cheek curiously, but she did not look at him. Talfryn's words bothered her more than she'd have thought likely; she had to correct him: "But still, don't make it sound like he's an alien," added Rose, turning her head to look back up at him. "Dezel looks human enough that even if you were right, it wouldn't be _that_ weird."

Felice smiled faintly, and Rose scowled at the knowing glimmer in her eyes. "Sounds like you're trying to convince yourself as much as us," she pointed out, swinging her legs, and Rose narrowed her eyes at the truth of her words: there _was_ Dezel's drastically longer lifespan to consider. (Again, still.)

"Is there something on your mind, boss?" prompted Eguille, exchanging a troubled glance with Rosh, when she did not respond. "You don't usually make justifications like that—especially if you're talking about something that doesn't apply to you."

"I'm more worried about getting something in my stomach," sighed Rose; Dezel glanced over at her, but said nothing. Instead, he only wrapped her in another warm breeze, like a shawl around her shoulders, and she smiled faintly at the gesture. "Is it dinnertime yet?" pressed Rose, clutching her growling gut, before her family could bother her any more about her seraph.

"Dinner can be whenever you want it, boss," responded Rosh tentatively.

"Excellent," smiled Rose, glancing over at Dezel; he seemed startled that she'd chosen to look at him again, but the corner of his mouth tugged up nonetheless. He should know she'd only been avoiding his attention so her family wouldn't feel left out anymore; she hadn't meant anything by it. "You go ahead and get the Squire," she told him. "I'll rouse the Shepherd myself."

"Careful not to rouse anyone _else_ ," warned Dezel, heaving a sigh, and got to his feet, extending his hand: Rose took it automatically, and he pulled her to her feet, squeezing her fingers when she tried tugging them back. "Not all wind seraphim are as laid-back as me, and one of them in particular is hell-bent on making trouble for us both," he told her, the barest hint of a smile in his voice. "You should keep that in mind."

As he finally let her hand slip from his, Rose beamed up at him; laid-back? Seriously? "If you're laid-back, then I'm the Lord of Calamity," she laughed, kneeling next to Sorey. _Feel free to wake us however you want,_ she remembered; oh, he'd regret ever saying that to her. "Rise and shine, Shepherd!" she announced, giving an evil grin and tickling him mercilessly. "There's some sheep that need shearing!"

Sorey yelped, his eyes flying open, and writhed beneath her wiggling fingers. "R-Rose!" he exclaimed in desperation, giggling helplessly. "Get off! Please?" But Rose shook her head, having too much fun to cut it short so soon. "I—I'm begging you!" tried Sorey, fidgeting. "Stop…!"

"Seriously, unless you want to wash out that cot, you really should stop," remarked Mikleo, emerging from Sorey to rest an admonishing hand on Rose's shoulder: she halted immediately, giving Sorey a sheepish smile of newfound understanding as he lay flat on his back, flushed and panting. "It's a low blow to tickle someone just after they've awakened."

"Maybe I'll try that on _you_ sometime and see how you like it," agreed Edna, appearing alongside her fellow Sub Lords and leaning on her ever-present parasol—eyeing Rose as Sorey staggered off in the direction of the bathroom (Alisha sat up and blinked at him in confusion as he passed by). "If you're as ticklish as our Shepherd, I'm sure you'll give us a show, too."

"The hell she will," growled Dezel, standing next to Rose and crossing his arms intimidatingly. "It's dinnertime, Edna—so why don't you go get something from the kitchens before we eat _you_."

It wasn't a question, and Edna didn't usually take kindly to being bossed around… but to Rose's astonishment, she gave an exaggerated curtsy and made her winding way towards the door instead, swinging her umbrella pointedly around her finger to smack Dezel as she went. "Got it," she responded boredly. "Feeding time for the humans. Again."

"Wait," called Lailah, and Edna halted; Rose glanced over at the fire seraph to find her kneeling next to her bag. "First, we should consider activating the Earthen Historia," she suggested, plucking it out of Rose's pack and holding it up; the Scattered Bones' eyes widened at the sight of a floating iris gem, and Talfryn scooted back slightly to hide behind his sister: Sorey, emerging from behind the screen again, blinked in bewilderment at this new scene.

Rose sighed as Alisha looked hopelessly lost; it was only fair to give her a little preparation for what she might be about to see. "The visions we get from the iris gems are really immersive, and they can be a tad… disturbing at times," she told her delicately. "This way, we'll be giving our appetites a little time to come back before dinner. Just in case," she added, as Alisha looked alarmed. "They're not _always_ horrible."

"O-oh, I see," responded the princess, nodding apprehensively, and shifted her weight from foot to foot. "But… knowing Lunarre," she added, but stopped short: Rose grimaced. Yeah, that had crossed her mind; if a hellion as twisted as _that_ one had been carrying this thing around, then they could bet it would be dark.

"Ready, everyone?" asked Sorey, glancing curiously at Rose and Alisha; both of them moved hastily to his side. As Sorey took the iris gem from Lailah, cupping it in his hands, Rose rested her fingers on the side, meeting Alisha's curious gaze to tell her to do the same: the second Squire followed her lead, and they both closed their eyes in preparation to receive a vision.

 _…that man again—silhouettes of family—smiles and laughter—eyes widen—blood and corruption—grimaces—swords and fire—horror—dangling nooses—sweat and tears—rampaging horses—head in hands—alone by a window—no reason to live…_

"Wh-what just happened?" gasped Sorey as they surfaced abruptly from the vision, his hands trembling under the suddenly unbearable weight of the iris gem: Dezel extended his hand, oddly gently, and Rose guided the Shepherd's hand to give it to him.

"It was like people in his family just… died," responded Rose, her voice quavering as she glanced around at the nonplussed Scattered Bones. She couldn't bear to lose them all, especially not as horrifically as all that; it was more important than ever that she find some way to protect them even as she focused on saving the world.

"Looks like it," agreed Edna, not quite as nonchalantly as usual. "Pretty much all of them, one after another." Lailah made a small sad noise, perhaps as affirmative, but offered no words of wisdom; given her oath, Rose couldn't say she was much surprised. (What shocked her more was that she didn't shrug off Zaveid's hand resting on her shoulder.)

"It couldn't have been coincidence," murmured Mikleo darkly, staring at the ground through thoughtfully narrowed eyes.

"Were they… murdered?" choked out Alisha, her voice hushed, and shuddered with an additional vocalization a little like a sob. Rose glanced at her sympathetically; she and Sorey were two of a kind, to be sure. People as empathic as they could be suffered all the more in the face of others' suffering; she supposed that might be part of why they were so driven to _stop_ all that pain.

"Probably," responded Edna, shrugging. "Now, I'm going to get some food, since Dezel asked _so_ nicely. Back in a bit," she added, giving him the 'I'm-watching-you' signal as she backed out the door, closing it behind her none too gently.

"I guess it falls to me to keep her out of trouble," muttered Mikleo, shaking his head and following. "I'll see you soon." Rose glanced over at the Scattered Bones to find them all focusing on the door, clearly freaked out, and smiled ruefully at their bravery. There was a time, not too long ago, when she'd have been hiding under the bed at this point; seraphim seemed like ghosts to her, after all.

After a brief pause, Sorey heaved a sigh, addressing his shellshocked Squire. "There's nothing we can do about any of this for now," he told Alisha reluctantly, "except to find the other iris gems, so we can continue the story. The chapters may be out of order, but once we have them all, maybe the pieces of the puzzle will finally fit together." He glanced over at his Prime Lord gravely. "How many Earthen Historia are left, Lailah?"

She pursed her lips, gazing up at the ceiling momentarily as if lost in thought. "After that one… just two more, I believe," she responded finally, her voice still quavering in the aftermath of the vision, and bowed her head. "But I don't know where either of them might—"

"Oh!" exclaimed Talfryn eagerly, inadvertently interrupting Lailah mid- _be_. "I don't know how _many_ iris gems there are, but Eguille said… the best place to start looking for them is the shrinechurch offerings," he continued, ducking his head self-consciously as both Sorey and Alisha turned their heads slowly to stare at him. "There are a lot of rich faithful around here, and some of them might have donated some extra-expensive treasures. You know, since it's started raining nonstop and all?" he added, falling awkwardly silent a moment later and touching his fingers together.

Sorey blinked in surprise, exchanging a glance with his seraphim and Squires; Rose nodded encouragingly. "Sounds like it's worth a shot," he responded carefully, and his seraphim all nodded with varying degrees of hesitation (Dezel put in his assent first, having heard the plan before any of them).

"I agree," chimed in Alisha, hugging her arms to herself—perhaps in lingering discomfort over her experience with the Earthen Historia. "And I believe, if we attend the service tomorrow… we may be able to find a way to search them."

Dezel snorted. "You want us to go to _church_?" he demanded, and Alisha flinched at his derisive tone, mumbling what might have been an apology. "Please. The people claim to worship seraphim, but they can't even see us." Shaking his head, he gave a jagged and humorless smile. "I want no part of it."

Rose somehow managed to silence her seraph with a glare, which she had to be very careful not to follow with a smile as she realized her intimidation strategy had miraculously worked. "The princess has a point, y'know," she remarked, crossing her arms. "Iris gems aside, if anybody's going to make any official announcements, it'll be the priests for sure—and that should give us some good information about any current events."

"Good thinking," mused Sorey, but raised his head to address his next words to the Scattered Bones. "I paid extra for this room for tonight, and Sergei's agreed not to search it," he told them (Rose frowned at the redundancy until she realized her family hadn't been able to hear Mikleo's explanation earlier), "so you should all be safe for the couple hours we'll be gone in the morning. But I still feel like I should ask—are you gonna be okay if Rose comes to church with me and Alisha?"

Bless his heart; Sorey was so blasted _considerate_. Rose couldn't help but beam at him as the Scattered Bones nodded, some more tentatively than others: "Just… be sure to come back safe, okay, boss?" asked Felice anxiously; her dark green gaze seemed darker still in concern, and though Rose nodded, she could not meet her eyes.

…Of course, maybe that was just because Edna and Mikleo had returned already, balancing several bowls of pasta in their invisible hands. "The innkeeper was fixing dinner already," announced Edna, answering Rose's several unspoken questions, "so we helped ourselves. There wasn't enough for all of us, but we brought bowls for all you humans," she added, thrusting a chipped bowl into Sorey's hands.

"Looks like he went shopping since yesterday," observed Rose, her stomach growling in savage appreciation as she observed the delicious red sauce (trying not to think too much about how it resembled the gore in the vision). He'd spared no expense, apparently; though if this was his own dinner, she did feel a little sorry that her seraphim had stolen it right out from under his nose. "This is a regular feast compared to dinner _last_ night."

"Seconded," agreed Eguille, tentatively accepting a bowl from the invisible Mikleo. "I know you did your best scavenging, boss, and I know we taught you to be grateful for any food; but you gotta admit, a loaf of dry bread's got nothing on this."

"Shut up," growled Rose affectionately, but flinched as Edna bumped her bowl against her head before finally handing it over. She was the last to be served, she noticed somewhat resentfully, but couldn't suppress a smile nonetheless; as much as a certain earth seraph liked pretending she didn't care, she was pretty protective of her vessel.

There was a long and satisfied silence as the humans all devoured their pasta (hunger overriding their lingering disgust), during which the seraphim all stood by wistfully; Rose even felt sorry enough to sneak Dezel a few messy mouthfuls, though kept the vast majority for herself. But finally, having wolfed down his entire bowl of pasta before remembering to breathe, Talfryn cleared his throat.

"As we were saying," he began, fixing his eyes on Sorey, "yeah, we'll be fine, but you'd better not get the boss in trouble." Felice, Rosh, and Eguille all nodded vigorously in agreement as he continued, "The whole world knows what we are now, and that includes the boss, even if she doesn't have as much to show for it. Better lie low if you know what's good for you."

"Hey—it takes more than a Shepherd to land me in danger!" insisted Rose, her eyes widening in mock outrage, as she scraped clean her bowl. "Come on, I have an alias and everything," she added proudly, her earlier conversation with Dezel bursting unbidden into her mind, and crossed her arms triumphantly over her full stomach. "It's Isylvia. But you can call me Sylvi for short."

"Wow, that's… really pretty," responded Alisha, swallowing a sauce-laden bite of pasta, and Rose tossed her a genuine smile: that meant a lot, coming from a princess. "I'm actually envious," she added, and Rose blinked. Curiouser and curiouser. "Mine's Amekia, like my true name; I couldn't think of anything better."

"Oh, that's not so bad," Rose returned, grinning, as she got to her feet to stretch. "And thanks for the compliments and all, but really, I couldn't pick a name to save my life. This one was Dezel's call." She glanced over at him triumphantly as she spoke, but he did not react either to accept her tacit praise or to reject it; he only leaned against the wall again, as if waiting for a more relevant topic to come along.

Her attention was quickly drawn to Sorey as he shifted in place, setting his empty bowl aside. "Ah," was his only response, uttered as he exchanged an uncertain glance with Mikleo. Rose narrowed her eyes between the two of them, but could not discern the source of their discomfort, and that in turn made her uneasy. What were they trying to hide…?

"Are you serious?" asked Mikleo disbelievingly, shaking his head, and Rose could have sworn his voice was edged with disdainful amusement; but the word was directed at Dezel. "Isylvia? _Really_?"

"What, does it not mean 'blossom'?" asked Rose, putting her hands on her hips and eyeing her seraph: had Dezel opted to hide the truth again? But judging by that stubborn frown, he seemed about as confused as she—and he wasn't half as good a liar as he liked to think. No; whatever the ruin geeks' issue was, he didn't understand it any more than Rose did.

"N-no, it does," responded Sorey tentatively: Dezel and his vessel both turned their eyes towards him expectantly, but the Shepherd hesitated, avoiding their curious gazes and opting instead to stare at the floor before him. Yet his expression seemed more thoughtful than anything else—as though he was considering how best to break some unfortunate news.

"You're a _terrible_ liar," Rose told the Shepherd, peering at him closely as he continued to say nothing. "Come on, spit it out."

In response to her accusation, Sorey only shot a pleading glance at his nearest Sub Lord; Mikleo sighed heavily, acquiescing to an extended explanation. "Yes, Isylvia really _does_ mean 'blossom'," he responded, tapping the tip of his staff impatiently against the ground. "Of that I'm sure. But it's got… connotations."

"What's that supposed to mean?" demanded Rose, crossing her arms—as intrigued as she was anxious. _Connotations_? She exchanged a confused glance with the alarmed Alisha at Mikleo's ominous tone; what kind of connotations could a word as innocuous as 'blossom' possibly have?

"Beautiful _like_ a blossom is more accurate," replied Lailah cautiously, sounding as though she was trying to keep from laughing; Dezel stiffened, looking stricken, and his wind stilled suddenly… to be replaced by a gale of laughter from Zaveid. He honestly hadn't known, then, thought Rose, smirking; but she turned her level gaze onto Mikleo as he spoke.

"The blossom itself is symbolic of sensuality," he continued, letting out a long breath: Dezel's mouth dropped open, and he immediately flushed, but could form no words. "It's among the more common motifs in ancient art, and it can be found in every era. Arguably, it's the most endur—"

"Wait, _what_?!" exclaimed Dezel, taking a step forward with clenched fists as he finally found his voice, and Rose could no longer suppress a faint giggle. This level of overreaction was adorable, really; the lengths to which he would go to deny having offered her a compliment, however inadvertent, lent him some degree of admittedly abrasive charm.

A smirk tugged at Edna's lips as she recognized the word that had tripped him up, her eyes half-closing in perverse pleasure. "Sensual," she responded unhelpfully, opening her parasol and twirling it lazily—making sure to spin its spokes into Zaveid's muscular back as he got to his feet beside her. "Desirable. Alluring. Irresistible. Take your pick."

"I didn't m-mean…" stammered Dezel, turning a deeper shade of crimson than Rose had ever seen him… but his fellow wind seraph sauntered over before she could tell him to stand down. Of course he couldn't resist interjecting; this spelled trouble.

"O _ho_ ," laughed Zaveid obnoxiously, punching Dezel seraph half-lightly in the shoulder; he winced, rubbing his bicep and glowering at his latest tormentor—but, to Rose's surprise and relief, did not terminate his existence. Well, not _yet_ ; but at this rate, the end of Zaveid's incredible lifespan probably wasn't long off: "Looks like someone's in love!"

Rose blinked: there were probably a thousand other explanations for Dezel's embarrassment—for instance, that he was undeniably a bit of a control freak, so being misinterpreted like this was probably more than he could stand. But if he'd just let her _tell_ him she didn't mind…!

After one more mostly silent moment of staring between the two of them (one grinning and the other grimacing), Rose opted to clear her throat and continue as though nothing had happened; she ought to make it clear she didn't blame Dezel in the slightest if she wanted him to calm down. "He _did_ tell me he didn't know much of the ancient tongue," she pointed out, glancing at her seraph out the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction.

"I'll say," muttered Mikleo, and at Rose's silent insistence, Dezel finally turned his attention away from Zaveid's aggravating smirk. "I know not all seraphim are as knowledgeable as Elysians, but symbolic association is still pretty basic."

"I can always give you another name if you want," offered Sorey; even though she already knew her answer, Rose hesitated. Glancing at Dezel, she found him tense, and smiled faintly; she'd gotten much better at reading him over the time they'd traveled alone. He was obviously trying not to seem too interested in her response, but his winds seemed restless—carefully analyzing her reaction.

"No, it's fine," decided Rose, turning back to Sorey, and Dezel's breeze stirred her hair like a breath of relief. "You literally named me _Rose is Rose_. I think I can find it in me to appreciate _beautiful like a blossom_ —and as surprised as I may be that Dezel gave me a name as nice as that, I'm also flattered." Not that he'd done it on purpose, of course; but if she led by example and took this in stride, it might reassure him that it wasn't that big a deal.

Unfortunately, this had the opposite effect, as Dezel pulled his hat down still lower over his eyes. "I didn't _know_ ," he hissed desperately through grit teeth, his every muscle rigid in stubborn denial, and Rose reflected with a mixture of annoyance and amusement that he was even more sensitive than Alisha. "Stop acting like I did this on purpose!"

"Oh?" asked Rose, standing on one hip, and could no longer suppress a mischievous smile; ordinarily, she didn't like pressing such a sensitive matter—but if Dezel would rather insult her than own up to a compliment, this called for drastic measures: "Are you saying I'm _not_ attractive, then?"

The effect was immediate; as if time had been reversed, Dezel blanched, no trace of his deepened shade left on his face. "I—I never said that!" he insisted frantically, turning his back on Rose and crossing his arms; Zaveid raised an eyebrow next to him, his grin rekindling. "What do you take me for, anyway?" he muttered, as if to himself. "I may be blind, but I'm not _that_ blind."

Okay, so that was a nice touch; Rose found it fascinating that he could advocate as strongly _for_ the full meaning of the name as he did _against_ it. "Jeez," she laughed; they might not take so much pleasure in his discomfort if his reactions weren't so spectacular, she thought. "Make up your mind!"

"Hey, lovebirds," interrupted Edna before Dezel could say anything, driving Rose forward with the pointy end of her parasol; she stumbled towards Dezel with a yelp of startled protest, and he turned in time to catch and steady her by the shoulders. "Spare us the drama and just kiss already."

"Damn it, I've been trying to tell you, it's not _like_ that!" growled Dezel, letting go and shoving Rose half-gently back at Edna; stumbling into the middle of the circle again, she glanced at him over her shoulder, caught off-guard by the vehemence of his objections. Her thoughts seemed veiled even from herself; something like disappointment stirred at the edge of her mind… but she couldn't identify the source, and she didn't have long to consider it anyway before the Shepherd intervened.

"Oh, you know how Edna is; just ignore her," remarked Sorey hastily, ruffling his hair with an awkward smile. " _Anyway_ ," he continued, speaking over Edna's deadpan complaints, "I've taken the other half of Alisha's true name, since I haven't decided on my own yet. So I'm Mel, if anyone asks," added Sorey, gesturing towards himself. "Short for Melphis."

"Got it," sighed Rose, gazing over at Dezel; apparently, he was still busy averting his winds and avoiding her eyes, but Zaveid seemed to be picking up the slack. Though his stare was fixed on Sorey, she could feel the air pull and prod at her curiously, and colored slightly under its shameless scrutiny; but nobody seemed to want to break the enduring silence that followed… except Zaveid, ever as reckless as his winds.

"Yo, Dezel," he began eventually, surprisingly serious, and glanced up at him. "You oughta consider apologizing to Rose here. And before you shove any pendulums down my throat," he added, raising his voice as Dezel opened his mouth furiously, "this has nothing to do with the whole _Isylvia_ thing. It's just that you're not listening to her about as much as we're not listening to you, except it's twice as unforgivable since she's your vessel and all."

"Seriously, I've never seen you two so tense around one another before," agreed Edna, before Dezel could snap. "You _used_ to do an okay job at keeping this one under control," she added to Rose, jabbing her umbrella at Dezel, "but now you're just making him worse." And, as irritating as it was, Rose couldn't help but see her point… but shook her head all the same.

"Look, I think we're _all_ a little tense, what with the world the way it is," she sighed, as evenly as she could. "Our groups have been apart for awhile, and a lot's happened during that time, so we're probably just not used to all these changes," continued Rose, narrowing her eyes. "For example, I don't remember the rest of you being this damn _nosy_ , but you don't see me pointing it out for no reason!"

There was a moment of stunned silence before Zaveid laughed. "Dang," he chuckled, shrugging and shaking his head. "She's got us nailed. Of course, I wouldn't mind if—"

" _Don't_ start with that," interrupted Dezel sharply, bringing his palm abruptly forward to smack the back of Zaveid's head—but though the rowdier wind seraph winced and rubbed his newest bruise, Dezel's focus remained trained on his vessel. Rose stared him down solemnly, trying to convey by her expression alone that he didn't need to do it; she didn't blame him for a moment… but once again, it had the opposite effect. (Either she didn't know him as well as she thought, or he'd changed just as much as she had for some reason; she'd have to think on that later.)

"I'm… sorry," growled Dezel eventually, dipping his head, and steadied his hat by the brim; as he spoke, Lailah smiled along with her vessel. "For snapping at you like that," he clarified, as though Rose hadn't understood, and she tossed him a genuine smile. "But none of you _ever_ get to mention that definition again, got it?" he added, his expression and voice both hardening suddenly, and glared around at everyone else.

"Can't I even say it's a lovely name?" ventured Alisha, smiling ruefully; it was the first she'd spoken since the beginning of that little spat, Rose realized, and winced as she realized the princess probably felt responsible. Should she try to tell her otherwise…?

But Dezel caught the humor in Alisha's voice, and shook his head before Rose could so much as open her mouth. "Absolutely not," he growled, and his tone had likewise lightened: Rose could see the others relax around her, and found herself unspeakably relieved that the storm had passed. "I'm done dealing with all these feelings about something so simple."

"And this is why I like you," sighed Rose, stalking over to Dezel; he backed against the wall as she approached, and Zaveid smiled at his obvious discomfort. "If you don't mean it, you don't say it. You just gotta work on the flip side a little more," she added, prodding him in the chest and gazing into his blind eyes earnestly. "But I think I can forgive you for all your accidental insults this time. _If_ …"

She paused dramatically, trying to think of an appropriate favor; but Dezel sighed, shaking his head. "I don't owe you anything," he told Rose, though he seemed uncertain. "I gave you a name you liked, and I even apologized to you in front of everyone else. What more do you want from me?"

"I guess I'll think of something later," decided Rose, pursing her lips—unable to come up with anything on short notice. (Especially since Dezel had actually made some pretty good points, but she wasn't about to tell him that.) "Oh, and by the way, thanks for snagging us some dinner, Edna," she added, turning around to nod at the earth seraph.

"Hey, I helped!" protested Mikleo, crossing his arms, as Edna opened her mouth; she narrowed her eyes, brandishing her umbrella, and he yelped and sidestepped immediately.

"Thanks, Mikleo," laughed Rose, shaking her head. Speaking of sensitive. "Anyone _else_ need a thank-you from me?" she added, spreading her arms in good-natured sarcasm. Anything to keep them off Dezel's back for a second. "If I'm headed to church tomorrow like a good girl, I should be free with my gratitude! May Maotelus bless me when he sees my incorruptible virtue."

Alisha giggled. "I'm sure he'll be so proud of us," she responded unexpectedly, "since he's a paragon of purity himself. Just like our perfect spiritual guides, the sacred seraphim," she added, getting to her feet and curtsying, and glanced around at them all with amusement sparkling in her sea-green gaze.

"Hey, I'd show you heaven if I wasn't sure you'd send me to the other place first," laughed Zaveid, leaning against the wall, but his scarlet eyes were trained on the suddenly livid Lailah. "Fortunately for everyone, hellfire's hotter, if you know what I mean," he added pointedly, and the fire seraph blushed, her expression shifting into one of delighted embarrassment.

Rose rolled her eyes at this obvious flirtation; if she didn't know better, she might even say he was serious… but at least this opened up an opportunity to steer the conversation down a river of retribution: "Get a room, you two," she smiled, eager to encourage the others to find another not-couple to tease, and Dezel actually laughed as Edna smirked and nodded her agreement: the tables had turned at last.

* * *

 _Another quick update, since this chapter was half done by the time I posted the last one! You can expect a longer interval before the next one, since that was actually supposed to be separate from the get-go. Anyway, this marks the end of the feel-good arc. Time to start suffering soon._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _I totally love Eguille, and he's super handsome (a bit like older Alvin!), but I always thought he was like Brad's second-in-command—the rough equivalent of Rose's uncle. Don't think she'd go for anyone she's grown up considering family, haha. And as for the ring, she'll have to get used to it before she can do anything with it, so we've got a little while to go._

 _ **Guest:**_ _Oh man, thank you! I'm flattered, but nothing on this earth can make me rewrite a story this long two separate times. My side story, "Ring of Fate: Sidequests and Skits", may eventually contain chapters that will switch perspective, so that's as close as you're going to get… Sorry!_


	31. Chapter 30: In Love and War

This was _not_ fair.

Perhaps if Rose hadn't thought herself to sleep last evening, she might not have had such troubled dreams. Thinking on serious matters in the later hours rarely offered any solutions, and she didn't like spending time on self-reflection to begin with… but this time, she couldn't help it.

That strange sensation in her heart hadn't gone away; if anything, it had intensified into frustration of an almost physical kind, provoked by all this relentless and inescapable teasing and taunting from all directions. Both Rose and Dezel had definitely changed, and as little as she liked to admit, Edna was right: the tension between them had to be resolved—but she had no idea what she was doing wrong, so she couldn't fix it on her own… and she didn't want to make things even more awkward between them by asking.

So she'd fallen asleep (as far apart from Dezel as possible, in a perhaps futile effort to discourage further speculation on the nature of their relationship) feeling as helpless as ever, and that didn't make for particularly empowering dreams: running, more running, an unfamiliar girl's giggle. Grayscale stone and midnight rings of silver stars. Cold curling around her finger, cutting her to the bone. Breathless, like drowning in stagnant air, ghosts and terror and visceral revulsion—

" _Rose_ ," murmured Dezel's voice, a gentle breath stirring her ear, and she jolted awake at the sound of her name as suddenly as if she'd hit the ground after falling through space. Her every muscle had tensed in her sleep, and she had to force herself to relax, though the weight on her shoulder did not lessen; she felt as exhausted as if she hadn't slept at all, and the pact ring still seemed like a band of ice.

Groaning faintly and wrinkling her nose in distaste before finally resigning herself to wakefulness, Rose opened her sticky eyes to find Dezel lying next to her, less than a foot away, and recognized dimly that the heaviness on her shoulder was his hand. Torn between telling him off and thanking him for waking her, her gaze traveled up past bare chest to blind stare, and her eyes widened as she felt another resounding click from deep within her soul—like the long-lost last piece of a priceless puzzle.

Maybe it was that unrealized realization back for round two, thought Rose hazily, as her heart seemed simultaneously to slow down and skip a beat; she could not look away from his eyes, lest she lose the thought… and both their breaths caught at the connection. For the moment, it was just the two of them, their eyes locked as Rose hunted down the cause of that click, and she thought for a shining moment she understood—but then Dezel distracted her with a soft inhalation and asked huskily, "Did you feel that?"

She scowled at him, having _almost_ made it to the source of the sound in her soul before his perhaps inadvertent interruption… but nodded nonetheless, glancing away from Dezel. She could no longer say in all honesty that this wasn't important, given that she'd felt this same sensation twice now, and so had Dezel; but questions demanded answers of a more immediate kind. "Y-yeah," she decided hoarsely, clearing her throat, and rubbed her ring somewhat self-consciously—at a loss for what else to do with herself. "What _was_ it?"

"I—I don't know," responded Dezel, and released her shoulder as abruptly as if he had only just realized he was touching her; she shivered in the ensuing chill, scooting subconsciously closer—perhaps in an effort to chase the heat. "It's too early for this," he added, turning his back on her, and she narrowed her eyes; had he been trying to comfort her, or not? "Go back to sleep. And try not to have nightmares this time," he ordered as an afterthought.

"It's not like I can just _choose_ not to have bad dreams," complained Rose, her voice a fierce whisper; maybe it was different for seraphim, but she was no seraph. "I think… it's this ring," she added, reaching out her hand towards his back and wiggling her fingers so that the silver gleamed in the dim light. "It feels really cold," continued Rose uncertainly, wondering if Dezel would hear the invitation—and, if he did, whether he would accept it. After all, she only ever had nightmares when she felt alone… so, logically, if he just showed her that he was there for her, she'd be fine.

There was a brief pause as Dezel rolled back over to face her, and though he'd closed his eyes, she could feel the restless wind stirring around her as if gauging her mood; but finally, he slid his hand hesitantly over to cover her fingers. Despite having been expecting this (or at the very least, hoping for it), Rose forgot to breathe for a moment as a rush of heat washed over her, giving her gooseflesh as surely as if it had chilled her instead. She could tell Dezel felt the shift, as the breeze asked her an inaudible question, but he didn't translate; instead, he only asked quietly, "Better?"

Even the extra layer his hand provided did nothing to heat the ring, and she thought he could tell, but she couldn't stand the thought of him letting go. "Better," agreed Rose, closing her eyes in surprisingly comfortable exhaustion, and relaxed into this pleasant sort of fever his touch provoked. She could swear she'd felt something like this before, just like the sensation in her heart; but the bewildering bliss of her present blotted out all thoughts of the past, and that was probably for the best: they both needed their rest in preparation for the day to come. "Night again, Dezel," she murmured.

"Morning," he corrected her, a smile of relief in his voice, and they breathed a contented sigh together. And, as Rose drifted off to sleep once more, she thought she felt Dezel's fingers tighten slightly around hers, like a miniature embrace—but, her inhibitions all but gone in the few hours before dawn, she no longer cared why. All that mattered, in the twilight of wakefulness, was that he never let go.

* * *

Of course, by the time Rose awakened at a godlier hour, Dezel had in fact let go—but she couldn't blame him, given that they'd catch hell from their friends if they'd found their hands like that. Nonetheless, Rose still found herself afraid that he had abandoned her, perhaps irrationally so… until her eyes fluttered open, and she realized with a rush of relief that her seraph still lay loyally next to her, albeit a more respectful distance away.

Dezel's arms were folded across his chest, one leg bent up, as he stared at the ceiling; but as Rose stretched out, arching backwards to crack her stiff back, he turned his head to glance over at her, green tips of silver hair falling into his face. There was a question in his blind eyes, as deep and expressive as though they still could see, and Rose answered it with a tentative smile: yes, she was fine.

All the better for his help, she thought before she could stop herself—and another jolt of that intoxicating _something_ electrified her heart as his expression softened, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a genuine smile. And just like that, Rose stumbled and fell right through the door that had opened in her soul last night; if there was a mental equivalent of speechlessness, this was it.

Despite her sudden numbness, her infatuation shone painfully clear in her mind, like the sun she hadn't seen in weeks; how could she have been so stupid? And, more importantly, how could she still _be_ so stupid? _If you've got time to flatter me, then watch your own ass_ , snarled Dezel in her mind from long ago, and he was right: she couldn't afford to waste her energy on a little thing like this when the world was ending.

In times as tense as these, love was a liability even between two humans… let alone a human and a seraph… let alone a seraph and his vessel… let alone this _particular_ seraph-and-vessel pair. Rose squeezed her eyes shut to conceal her sudden strife from the world, curling forward into a ball of regret and reluctance; she'd never been so ludicrously, wildly happy—or so incredibly, unbearably furious.

Why, in the name of all Five Lords (hellionized or otherwise), did her notoriously fickle affections have to land on Dezel, of all people—seraphim—whatever? Rose _couldn't_ like him like that; it just… wasn't supposed to happen. And yet it felt so intolerably right she felt like screaming; she couldn't suppress a faint noise of general distress in the back of her throat.

There was a dissonant poetry to this realization, a jarring chord struck on perfectly tuned heartstrings. Dezel had been Rose's guardian angel for the better part of fifteen years… but he had also been watching her ever since she was a little girl. He'd saved her more times than she could count… but he'd also eliminated all her control over herself, using her over and over again for the sake of revenge.

And yet it had been for a righteous cause, and he'd remained respectful of her boundaries for as long as she'd been able to see him. His reasons for secrecy had also been in the interest of protecting her, albeit in a somewhat roundabout way; it was obvious enough that he cared deeply for her as well, though Rose still had her doubts that his behavior stemmed from the same source as her own. After all, most of his actions could be explained by her status as his vessel.

Okay, sure, most of the signs indicated a mutually unhealthy interest; but signs could be questioned, so question she did. Most people feared unrequited love and rejection… but given their situation, Rose feared that Dezel reciprocated her newfound desire. If his feelings mirrored her own, she could think of no practical arrangement for them; as awesome as a friendship with benefits would be (if only for stress-and-tension-relief purposes), she could tell they'd never be able to confine it to just friendship.

But even if Rose's own heart had failed her, Dezel was pragmatic enough that he would undoubtedly understand the inadvisability—nay, the _impossibility_ —of a romance. Thus, there was only one path forward: she wouldn't tell him. She'd keep it to herself, forever, because vanquishing the Lord of Calamity couldn't make Rose a seraph, nor could it make Dezel human. Initiating any kind of relationship would only hurt them both in the end, and all attraction blew through eventually: this would be no exception.

Sorey's voice broke into her melancholy resolution, and she opened her eyes again: how long had she been spacing out? "Good morning," began the Shepherd—quietly, so as not to awaken the still-sleeping Sparrowfeathers—and raised a cracked teacup as if in a toast of some sort; Rose sat up with what seemed like a tremendous effort, pulling herself back into her body from her turbulent thoughts. "Are you all right?"

"Just… a headache," mumbled Rose, fixing her gaze intently on Sorey to keep her eyes from wandering back to Dezel; that way madness lay, and she wasn't sure she could face him on even ground until she felt a little more awake. "I'll be fine. This happens whenever my sleep gets interrupted." She knew her seraph could tell she was lying from his disbelieving breeze, and struggled bitterly against her guilt; but then, he'd kept secrets from her all her life, so she reserved the right to remain silent.

"I'm sorry you didn't sleep well," remarked Alisha, tilting her head from her position sitting on the floor next to Sorey, and concern shimmered in her bright green eyes. "Can I fix you some tea?" she added, brandishing the teapot at her almost threateningly.

Rose shook her head to decline her offer; _when_ would they learn she was really a coffee kind of gal? "I'll be fine," she repeated; Alisha set the teapot down on the ground again, pursing her lips in disapproving disappointment. "I'm sure Maotelus will heal me once we get to church. Which reminds me, we're not late, are we?" she added apprehensively, glancing around in search of a clock. The last thing they needed was to call even more attention to themselves by showing up halfway through the service.

Thankfully, Sorey shook his head. "Don't worry; it starts in a little less than an hour," he told her, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Not that she thought her companions were so inept that they'd rather sit and drink tea placidly instead of waking her so they could get going, but… "We should still leave whenever you're ready to make sure we get there early, though."

"Rose, have you ever been to church before?" asked Alisha curiously, taking a dainty sip of tea, and Rose blinked. Good Lords; had the princess bought her own teacup during their separation? It didn't match Sorey's, at any rate; but then again, she supposed it was possible that the innkeeper didn't have a matching set. This place was hardly the lap of luxury, after all.

"Is it that obvious?" asked Rose, smiling despite herself. In all honesty, she didn't remember; maybe her blood parents had brought her to church when she was really little, but if they had, she couldn't recall.

"No," clarified Dezel tersely, and Rose made the mistake of glancing over at him as he spoke; her heart skipped a beat just at the sound of his voice, and she grit her teeth: this was going to get old _really_ fast. "The Scattered Bones turned their backs on the church after they had to go into hiding."

"Well, there you have it," sighed Rose, turning back to Alisha with an effort. "My seraph has spoken, and he knows more about me than I do. Anyway, I guess you've been to church a lot before, huh?" she added, before Dezel could add anything further. "Being the princess of Hyland, and all?" It would certainly make sense, given her pure attitude.

To her utter astonishment, Alisha shook her head. "Not a Rolancian service," she told her, and Rose pursed her lips in confusion; she really didn't know the first thing about variations in seraphism between the nations, other than that it was the most common religion on the continent and centered primarily around the reverence of the Five Lords—most prominently, Maotelus.

"Are they different?" frowned Rose, leaning back on her hands. "I mean, I don't know too much about religion, so I've never noticed if they are. I kinda avoided all that whenever I could, you know?" The nuts and bolts of religion had never really been important to her; she got the feeling that she'd still be going to hell.

"I'm not an expert in the field," responded Alisha, "but I know Rolance's version of seraphism is much more strict and formal than Hyland, and they also have a more expansive holy book than the Book of Maotelus. The Divine Chronicles are what you might call a… a postscript," she continued. "Detailing the life of Maotelus's alleged human son."

Rose raised an eyebrow at Alisha's flinty tone; her skepticism may have been subtle, but it was still noticeable. "I take it Hylanders don't believe in such a thing?" she asked, crossing her arms.

Alisha shook her head after a brief hesitation. "N-no," she responded haltingly. "The Hylander faith believes Yue was a Shepherd, just like his mother. Our translation of the holy book is rooted more in history than folklore, and since humans and seraphim haven't been proven to be compatible…"

As she trailed off awkwardly, her gaze flicked between Dezel and Rose so quickly she almost thought she'd imagined it, and struggled not to roll her eyes. Seriously, could they just lay off the implications for a second? _Especially_ since that little tidbit made it sting all the more that a friendship with benefits wouldn't work between them.

"All religious discussions aside, I'm ready whenever you are," decided Rose, turning towards Sorey as she changed the subject as soon as possible; he raised his eyebrows in apparent surprise, but didn't question her. "Dezel?" she added, glancing over at her seraph; he nodded once, shortly, and got to his feet as Rose turned back to the Shepherd. "You guys good to go? Got your Sub Lords and stuff?"

"Yes," responded Sorey softly, getting to his feet along with Alisha. "I think they're still asleep, actually."

"Guess again, Sheep-Boy," responded Edna's voice dryly, and Rose jumped automatically. "Also, Sorey, lose the cape. I don't _care_ if the princess gave it to you," she added, raising her voice slightly as both Sorey and Alisha stammered objections; Rose raised her eyebrows, not having heard that story. "It'll just make you all stick out like three sore thumbs on a mutant hand, and that's never a good thing."

"She's got a point," sighed Rose, as Zaveid chuckled in agreement. "I'm a wanted criminal, Alisha is the princess of the opposing nation, and Sorey is the Shepherd fallen from grace. If we're going to pull this off, we'll need to lie lower than we've ever lied in our life." She debated correcting the word to _lay_ , but decided _lied_ was just about as accurate here.

"I guess you're right," responded Sorey, his voice edged with a light sigh as he took off his cape and draped it carefully over his cot: despite her earlier resolution to leave him alone, Rose couldn't help but exchange an amused glance with Dezel—relieved as her pulse only quickened a little bit this time. "Let's go," added the Shepherd more comfortingly, as Rose found herself looking around at her slumbering family. "I'm sure they'll be here when we get back."

* * *

They soon discovered that though the storm had lessened somewhat, even with Dezel and Zaveid working together to suppress the billowing breezes, they couldn't fend off the cold forever. In a way, this misty kind of rain might prove itself a blessing in disguise; no one would look too hard at them. Once they were inside the shrinechurch, however, all bets were off; Rose found herself begging the heavens that no one would recognize them.

As if her half-formed thoughts had triggered something, she realized that her ring seemed to have gotten less frigid—a stark contrast from the multitude of tiny droplets freezing her finger. She glanced over sharply at Sorey and Alisha as something seemed to stir at the edge of her vision, but couldn't tell what had distracted her; they hadn't made any sudden motions, after all.

More puzzlingly still, as she gazed at them searchingly, she recognized that the edges of their hair and irises seemed slightly blurred, and frowned in confusion—but not before Sorey and Alisha caught one another's eyes, gasped as if in alarm, and came to a simultaneous halt as all the seraphim emerged.

"Sorey, y-you look just like _me_!" stammered Alisha, and Rose blinked, trying in vain to clear her vision; his hair still looked perfectly brown to her, and his eyes a cool dark green. "I mean, you still look like you, too," amended Alisha awkwardly, "but you're… blonde? And your eyes are exactly the same shade as mine!"

"No, they're not," remarked Edna, opening her umbrella in a hurry. "I guess you can't tell your eyes turned blue. And you're a redhead now, too," she added; Alisha pulled her ponytail into her peripheral vision, making a small noise of distress (Zaveid chuckled). "Just like Rose used to be."

"Wait, _used_ to be?" asked Rose, raising an eyebrow—confused, but grateful for a less emotional variety of confusion. "I don't know what you guys are talking about. Everyone looks fine to me, if a little… fuzzy," she added, glancing sideways at her own hair to find it just as blurry as theirs, and rubbed her eyes to no avail. "I can still see colors, though, and none of you seem any different."

"Like seraph, like vessel," sighed Mikleo, shaking his head, and touched a couple exasperated fingers to his forehead. "Seems like someone's going as blind as Dezel here. It looks to me like everyone stole each other's color schemes."

"Yeah, and it's kinda tripping me out," agreed Zaveid, pursing his lips and eyeing Rose carefully—evidently unnerved. "Brown hair definitely doesn't suit you, and neither do our Shepherd's green eyes. You look _way_ too innocent," he added, shaking his head. "And now Alisha's the hothead. This is the weirdest thing I've seen in awhile."

Lailah, meanwhile, peered at Rose keenly, but she only noticed after she took her hand. "Your ring," she remarked softly, pinching it between her fingers, and all eyes turned to the silver band curled around her finger. "Does it… do you… feel any different?"

Rose nodded hesitantly. "It's… warmer," she responded haltingly, tugging her hand out of Lailah's gentle grasp. "Not like, _warm_ warm, but at least it doesn't feel like it's made of ice anymore. Which is a relief," she added, in part to convince herself, as she realized with an unpleasant shock that an all-too-familiar bad feeling had settled stealthily in the pit of her stomach. (It was probably just left over from her realizations that morning.)

Lailah smiled somewhat sadly, perhaps in recognition of her premonition. "I would imagine that means you're using the power of that seraph to disguise yourself and your human friends," she sighed, shaking her head slowly. "Ingenious, if a little intrusive. But I take it you didn't do it on purpose, so…" She trailed off, frowning as if trying to decide how she should feel.

"Can we stop standing around in this storm and go inside already?" interrupted Edna, stamping her foot in the enormous puddle that covered the entire street; Lailah yelped as her silken skirts were flecked with darker drops of rainwater. "It's _freezing_ out here."

"You are literally the only one of us with an umbrella, so you've got no room to complain about a little rain," Rose told her, hugging her arms to herself—pretending she was just crossing her arms, because she was _not_ going to admit that Edna had a point. "Besides, why don't you hide inside Sorey, if you're so cold?"

Edna glowered, but didn't get the chance to retort before Zaveid cut her off. "Hey, I feel fine, and I'm wearing a lot less than you are," he put in unhelpfully… but even as he said it, he started walking again, and everyone else followed suit. Clever. "Enough that _some_ people insist it's indecent," he added, tossing an obvious wink in Lailah's direction. "Outwardly, anyway."

"It is!" exclaimed Lailah, coloring slightly out of either embarrassment or fury. "You share a vessel with not one, but _two_ ladies," she ranted shrilly, brandishing a finger at Zaveid, and Rose suppressed a giggle at her seriousness with difficulty. "It's hardly too much to ask that you manifest a shirt as part of your appearance!" she added more desperately, clenching her fists with the passion of her argument.

"I don't see you telling _Dezel_ to put a shirt on," responded Zaveid, raising his eyebrows, and Lailah opened her mouth furiously, but no words came out. "Could it be I have some competition?" he added suggestively, waggling his eyebrows; but as Lailah stuttered helpless negatives in response, Dezel snorted in derisive laughter.

"No way," he growled dismissively, crossing his arms. "I wouldn't go out with her if she was the last woman in the world." But as Rose blinked in shock at his cruel words, and as Lailah's eyes widened and filled with hurt like tears, he added somewhat impatiently, "Because she obviously deserves better. Stop looking at me like that."

Zaveid let out a long breath, and Lailah managed a small smile of relief. "For a moment there, I thought you really _were_ heartless," he told Dezel, shaking his head. "You gotta be real careful what you say to ladies. They're like elephants, y'know—they never forget." Rose laughed at the irony; but the knowing glimmer in Zaveid's eyes made her think he understood exactly what he'd said.

"But I bet you'd go out with Lailah in a heartbeat if she could purify your friend and bring back the Windriders, huh, Dezel?" asked Edna sweetly, but her eyes were fixed on Rose's face in unabashed interest, and she couldn't help but scowl. What was she trying to do, make her jealous? Had she seen them holding hands that morning, or something…?

"She can't," responded Dezel shortly, _end-of-discussion_ style. "No one can."

"Not even your beloved vessel?" pressed Edna, tilting her head as if innocent, but there was a bright sort of curiosity in her eyes that Rose didn't like one bit. "You're so enamored with her, I figured she could do _anything_." Yeah, judging from that smug tone, she'd definitely seen them holding hands; but at least the others' clear confusion indicated that she was the only one who had done so. Still, this was getting much more complicated than she'd ever wanted it to be.

"Not even Rose," snapped Dezel evasively, though his words seemed to stick in his throat as if reluctant; a convulsive swallow almost cut him off. "Leave us _alone_ ," he muttered finally, and clenched his teeth so tightly that Rose thought it would be a miracle if he ever opened his mouth again; but she was nonetheless touched by (and apprehensive about) his inclusiveness. _Us_.

"Don't mind him, Edna," grinned Zaveid, sauntering over to his fellow Sub Lord's side, and Rose raised her eyebrows in astonishment: hell must have frozen over if Edna didn't repulse him instantly. "Zaveid is still here for the world to love!"

"Breaking news: the world hates you almost as much as Dezel hates the world," announced Edna flatly, folding her umbrella to jab Zaveid in the chest before immediately opening it in his face to shower him with raindrops. Rose snickered at Zaveid's yelp; that combo was easily as effective as any arte. "And that's still a lot, by the way," she added dispassionately.

Zaveid staggered to the side, clutching his heart and mumbling something about how Edna missed her mark, and Rose giggled at his exaggeration. "Actually," she pointed out, "it'd probably be better for everyone if he gets all this out of his system _before_ we got inside the shrinechurch."

"Oh, Rose," gushed Zaveid, recovering from his alleged heartbreak instantly and slowing down to swagger alongside Rose; Dezel glanced over at him in sharp suspicion, and Edna flashed a faint smirk in his direction, but said nothing. "You know exactly how to make a man feel wanted!"

"Know what I'm even better at?" asked Rose, sensing a sparkle in her eye she'd missed for more hours than she cared to count, and did her best to ignore Dezel glaring daggers at the two of them: he'd like this, and it would be worth it for the punchline.

"Oh please, tell me," grinned Zaveid, leaning in as she beckoned for him to come closer, as though about to whisper a secret: beaming, Rose punched him in the shoulder none too lightly, and he made a noise of vehement protest, rubbing his arm. Glowering at nothing, he looked a lot more like Dezel than his usual obnoxious self.

"Leading people on," laughed Rose as they arrived at the entrance to the shrinechurch, and her seraph bared his sharp teeth in a rueful smile; Edna gave a single giggle as he observed him relax. With any luck, that little hint would keep the others from reading too far into her actions, and maybe that could help Dezel a little bit in turn.

"Better luck next time, Zaveid," chortled Sorey, nodding resolutely to his Squires, and the three humans pushed open the oaken double doors.

* * *

 _Just when I thought the chapter-splitting madness had ended, this happened. Also, I may or may not have died of feels while writing this, so now I am a ghostwriter._

 _ **NaotoShirogane:**_ _You read over 100,000 words in one sitting?! That's really impressive! And slightly unhealthy, but you know. I'm so glad you're enjoying this!_

 _ **N:**_ _*sigh of relief* Oh good! I'd been specifically worried about portraying everyone equally. But yeah. Suffering isn't necessarily imminent, but it's definitely on the horizon. Brace yourselves._

 _ **CWolf2:**_ _I'm so happy you enjoyed that scene! Of all the interactions that I plotted out prior to writing the thing, this was actually one of the most detailed plans. I don't know why it struck me as important enough to flesh out like I did, but this is the result. Either way, the L word has been both mentioned and recognized at this point. We'll see where this takes us._


	32. Chapter 31: Take Me to Church

_I bet you think this Author's Note is an M warning since it's at the beginning like all the other M warnings. But no, it's actually a disclaimer that the fictional religious service and text contained in the next few chapters are not intended to disrespect any nonfictional faith or holy book. Oh, and I should also say I do not own any music to which I make references; if you'd like a playlist of all the songs I will allude to throughout this chapter and the next, all of which are from other Tales, I've included a link at the bottom of my profile._

* * *

Come to think of it, being the first ones in the shrinechurch probably seemed equally as conspicuous as walking in late—but at the same time, at least it gave Rose a chance to scope out the atmosphere before they had to worry about anyone watching them.

"Small turnout," she joked, putting her hands behind her head… though she had the strangest impression that they were under scrutiny from the five stained-glass lanterns resting upon the altar pillars, and averted her eyes. "I'd have thought at least the _priests_ would be here, you know?"

"It's only deserted because we're especially early," responded Lailah, though Rose couldn't help but notice that her voice was laced with doubt. "I'm sure they'll all come closer to the time of the service. In the meantime, we should make ourselves comfortable while we still can."

"No problem," responded Zaveid, flopping down on one of the third-row pews; Rose winced on his behalf, given that there were no cushions. "Here's hoping there's enough room for all of us to stay outside our vessels, because it's been awhile since I've been to church, and I wanna see how this plays out." Rather than sit on the pew, Edna opted instead to plunk herself down on Zaveid's chest as though he had volunteered as her personal cushion—resting the point of her parasol delicately on his jugular as he opened his mouth to complain.

Sidling past the two of them, the others ignored the usual tension (though Lailah bit her lip as though considering intervening), and seated themselves at Zaveid's feet: Mikleo and Alisha sat on either side of Sorey, with Lailah settling on the far side of the princess and casting anxious glances in Zaveid's direction… but Rose remained standing in the aisle with Dezel. She'd already have to sit in these non-cushioned seats for at least an hour; she wasn't about to do it for longer than necessary.

"Every time I look at you, this color-changing thing gets a little weirder," remarked Mikleo, staring intently at Sorey's apparently altered features; Rose found herself wishing she could see them, because Sorey aside, she'd honestly pay to see what Alisha looked like with her coloration. "You actually kind of look like you're wind-armatized… except your hair isn't ridiculously long."

"What have you got against long hair, Mikleo?" asked Sorey, quirking a curious eyebrow as his Prime Lord pouted in the background. "I know it might get in the way sometimes, especially if it's as long as Lailah's—but I think _you'd_ look pretty good if you let yours grow out a little."

"Nah, you'd probably just look pretty," put in Edna, crossing her legs; Mikleo shot a glare in her direction, turning a delicate shade of scarlet (whether embarrassed about Sorey's observation or anger at Edna's flippant addition, Rose wasn't sure). "You already look feminine enough that if you had long hair, I bet Zaveid would hit on you if he hadn't already met you," she added slyly, shifting her umbrella as her irate cushion made to sit up; Rose suppressed a smile with difficulty.

"Hey, long hair or not, Mikboy here ain't my type!" protested Zaveid, and Dezel smirked as Mikleo nodded vigorously in agreement—but before any of them could say more, one of the doors leading deeper into the sanctuary opened, and Morgrim stalked through. Rose frowned as the Lord of the Land made her appearance; she might ordinarily have smiled out of relief at her presence, or perhaps out of delight at the sight of a slightly overweight feline trotting towards them, but the urgency in her motion told her that something was deeply amiss.

"I thought I heard the voices of the seraphim," remarked Morgrim, leaping onto the pew in front of them, and stood on her hind legs to rest her paws atop the backrest; Alisha's mouth dropped open, and a smile tugged at the corner of Rose's mouth at her shock. "Hello again, Shepherd. It's been awhile. You've… changed," she added, blinking at them all rapidly in apparent confusion at their color-changing shenanigans.

"Hello, Morgrim," responded Sorey courteously, a question edging his voice, and glanced sideways at Alisha with some amusement: she shut her mouth abruptly. "Don't mind the palette swap; it's… a long story. What brings you here?"

"You do," she returned, her eyes full of solemn wisdom. "I bring dire news. In the two nights since you rescued your friends the assassins," she continued, turning her gaze on Rose and Dezel, "there have been four murders here in these sacred halls. And the culprit has been deliberately acting outside of my sensory range; so they are either a hellion, a seraph, or an extraordinarily resonant human."

"Then we'll bring them to justice," responded Sorey promptly, and Alisha nodded in immediate agreement; Rose, however, exchanged an anxious glance with Dezel—wondering at the advisability of deviating from their chosen course. "Is there anything else we should know?"

Morgrim shook her head slowly. "Not that I can tell you, Shepherd," she responded, narrowing her intelligent slit-pupilled eyes at Dezel and Rose. "Only that you must tread very carefully, because if someone is trying to frame the assassins, they are doing an exceptionally effective job."

"Then we'll all have to leave as soon as possible," Sorey mused, and Rose and Alisha both nodded; however disappointing it was that her family couldn't take any longer to recover, she couldn't say she was much surprised… and besides, they didn't have too much more time to waste, given that they were supposed to be assembling the Earthen Historia. "But we should at least stay long enough to sort all this out," he added, frowning.

"Even the priests are having trouble keeping the peace," supplied Morgrim, "and several people have already threatened to turn vigilante if the knights don't produce results soon." She shook her head slowly, sadly. "It won't be long before this situation breeds more malevolence than I can process alone."

Dezel heaved a sigh, shaking his head. "Even so, why should we take the time to help a seraph?" he asked pointedly; Sorey and Alisha both turned to stare at him, and Rose blinked in surprise; in spite of her misgivings, she knew there was no alternative, and this was no time to be heartless. " _You_ should be able to handle this yourself," continued Dezel to Morgrim, crossing his arms defiantly. "The rest of us should save ourselves and the Scattered Bones while we still can. I'm not going to put myself, my vessel, _or_ her family in danger for the sake of anything less than saving the world."

"Yes, you are," snapped Alisha, flaring up unexpectedly, and turned in her seat to face him; Rose raised her eyebrows at the vehemence of her response, but couldn't in all honesty say she disapproved. It was touching and all that Dezel wanted to protect her, especially in light of her newfound realization; but it would be heartless to turn a blind eye to a situation like this. (Even in his case.) "We can't just stand by and do nothing while people are dying! There might not be a world to save anymore if we walk through it without helping anyone along the way."

"A lot _more_ people are going to die if we don't finish what we started, and fast," shot back Dezel, and Rose bit her lip. "Forget it. Even if we could prove that the Scattered Bones are innocent, they'd still be guilty for everything _else_ they've ever done." He pulled his hat further down over his eyes. "Mostly thanks to me," he added to himself under his breath, so quietly that even Rose could barely hear him; she narrowed her eyes, but could say nothing.

"Dezel's right," put in Zaveid, stirring under Edna, but the earth seraph still did not let him up. "Remember what I told you about trying to save everyone?" he added, glancing around at Sorey and Alisha. "That's right—you _can't_. It's better if we just search the offerings like we planned, and then get out of here before things spiral even further out of control."

"Still," responded Sorey, fixing his stare intently on the back of the pew before him. "If the people of Pendrago are generating even more malevolence, we have to stay and investigate, or Morgrim might become a hellion again. But if we don't find anything tonight, then… I _guess_ we can move on." He glanced over at Dezel with a question in his eyes; the seraph inclined his head in grudging acceptance, and Rose managed a weary smile.

"Wide-eyed idealists," muttered Zaveid, shaking his head with a resigned sigh; apparently, some among their number were less than thrilled with this compromise. "Fine. I guess that's as good as it's going to get."

"Rose?" prompted Sorey, glancing over at her with anxiety hovering in his bright but blurry eyes. (Rose wished fleetingly that there was something she could do to see the same thing everyone else did; she _so_ wanted to see what he looked like as what basically amounted to genderbent Alisha.) "You don't have to stay with us. If you need to move your family instead, I understand."

After a brief hesitation as she mulled over her options, Rose shook her head with a long exhalation. "No," she returned. "I don't think Dezel and I will get anywhere without you, honestly, and three heads are better than two." In her experience, splitting up was always more trouble than it was worth… and in light of her newfound realization, even more alone time with Dezel would make it all the harder to keep her distance. "You'll probably solve everything a lot faster if I'm around to help, especially since I don't want you to have to kill anyone," added Rose. "You'll need me if things turn nasty."

Dezel gave a growl-like sigh, shaking his head, but held his tongue; after a tentative pause, Morgrim finally gave them the feline equivalent of a smile. "Thank you, Squire," she purred warmly, kneading the back of the pew in relieved contentment. "And thank you too, Shepherd," she added, turning her nigh luminous gaze back onto Sorey; Alisha pouted silently at her exclusion, but did not complain. "If I can be of any further assistance, please, don't hesitate to let me know."

"Will do," responded Sorey, nodding once in unusually grim resolution, and the satisfied Morgrim leapt down from her pew and headed back towards the door she'd left ajar—but even as she disappeared through it once more, the church-bells began tolling from above, and all eyes widened, staring at the ceiling as though their gazes could pierce through to the source of the sound. Those bells sounded out a hymn unto themselves, different notes ringing out into the rain to summon all churchgoers.

Though Rose had never been to the service itself, this simple and holy tune was still familiar in an almost comforting way; it reminded her of crisp clear air and the sky at sunrise, her eyes fluttering open to take in the view through the window before those beautiful bells, distance softening their peals, lulled her back to sleep again. There was no sense in getting up if everyone was at church instead of market, after all—except now Rose could count herself among the congregation, if only for a single service.

Realizing that the other churchgoers would arrive soon and she would be blocking traffic, Rose finally stirred herself to scoot past the Shepherd, Squire, and seraphim; she sat beside Lailah, Dezel taking his place on her other side and flinging an arm to rest on the top of the pew, brushing against the back of Rose's head (she shivered half-pleasantly at his touch)… and then, but for the bells, there was silence.

Almost as soon as she had seated herself, several priests in their holy robes emerged from the inner sanctum, casting surprised but benevolent smiles at the few travelers they could see: Rose breathed a sigh of tentative relief as the elder one passed them by to attend the door. Even if they were apprehended later, their group was at least safe for now.

Gradually, the faithful filtered into the church; though there weren't enough attendees to fill all fourteen rows of pews, there was still a much larger group than Rose had anticipated. For a long time, she sat turned sideways, simply observing the citizens flooding in from outside—marveling that something as intangible as faith could compel them all to come out of hiding in a storm like this.

And one of them, perhaps unfortunately, was a familiar face. "Don't look now," hissed Rose, turning her head to address the others, "but Sergei's here. Didn't I _just_ tell you not to look?" she added furiously, reaching across Lailah swiftly to grasp Alisha's shoulder as her fellow Squire turned her head towards the entrance. "I don't know if he'll recognize us or not, but… better safe than sorry."

Given that Sergei somehow managed to be both oblivious and observant, just like a certain Shepherd, there were just two possibilities: either he'd recognize them instantly in spite of their altered coloration, or he'd treat them like complete strangers. (Brilliant deduction, Rose, she told herself, rolling her eyes at herself; of _course_ those were the only two options.)

"But… he was so kind to us on the journey here," protested Alisha, hugging her arms to herself as if uncomfortable. "I may not know him as well as you do, but he still seems like a good-hearted person. I don't think he'd attack us in a church."

She had a point… but then again, neither Alisha nor Sorey had been present for their little skirmish in Volgran Forest. "Yeah, but afterwards, all bets are off," pointed out Rose. "He may be kind, but he's got a strong sense of duty, and his loyalty is first and foremost to the knights. You'd make a valuable hostage, and they're looking to execute me—and even if they can't prove Sorey broke any laws," she added grimly, "they can probably arrest him for aiding and abetting, or something."

"Rose is right," put in Dezel as Lailah pursed her lips, her gaze troubled; Sorey frowned, focusing intently at the altar. "Now that we've decided to lie low, we can't afford to make any exceptions. The only ones we can really trust are each other… and sometimes not even then."

Rose shot a glance at him out the corner of her eye; judging from his slightly guilty expression, Dezel was referring to the sheer number of secrets he'd kept from her: she nudged him gently to assure him there were no hard feelings, and he gave her the ghost of a smile in return: her heart skipped another beat, and she directed her gaze quickly to the floor. Was this only happening because she'd finally realized her feelings, or had she just not noticed before this morning?

Either way, it needed to stop. Now. An infatuation was a dangerous distraction in a time like this, she growled to herself resentfully; but her seething thoughts were thankfully cut off before she could get too worked up about them: "He's coming this way," remarked Mikleo urgently, elbowing Edna. "Come on, get off. If Sergei tries to sit on you two, it's going to attract a _lot_ of unnecessary attention."

There was a long enough pause that Rose thought Edna was going to argue, but eventually, she sighed instead. "Fine," shrugged Edna, sliding to her feet nonchalantly. "But there's no way I'm sitting on a bench that hard," she added, stretching luxuriously; Zaveid sat up, keeping half an eye on the approaching Sergei. "They obviously design these things so you can't fall asleep. I feel sorry for you three," she added more mischievously to the Shepherd and his Squires, vanishing into Sorey in a flash of golden light. "There's no escape for humans. Or Dezel."

"Yeah, thanks a lot for reminding me," muttered Dezel sullenly, adjusting the brim of his hat, and glancing sideways at Sergei as he sat at the end of their pew. Rose shuddered on his behalf as she realized that he unknowingly sat maybe a foot away from Zaveid—wondering how many times she'd sat that close to Dezel without sensing his presence.

"Sorey," greeted Sergei softly, though he did not look at them as he spoke; Rose raised her eyebrow as she observed that he was unarmed, and wore much less armor than usual. (It was sort of surreal to see him in a _normal_ outfit.) "I came to warn you that I cannot in good conscience keep my men off your trail for longer than one more day." He hesitated, bowing his head as if in some sort of prayer. "I—I'm sorry."

"I understand," responded Sorey, nodding as determination sparked anew in his fuzzy-edged gaze. "But… how'd you know it was us?" he added as if unable to help himself, his curiosity evidently getting the better of him.

"I tried to check in on you this morning, but the innkeeper told me you'd gone to church," responded Sergei. "These days, there are no newcomers since travel is almost impossible in these conditions; so I figured you'd found some way to disguise yourselves. From there, I recognized your features, even if their coloration is different." He paused, a puzzled frown flickering across his face, and grasped his chin in a couple thoughtful fingers. "By the by, how _did_ you change your appearances…?"

Alisha pursed her lips pensively, glancing over at Rose as if pleading for her input; she sighed, shaking her head. As usual, the explanation evidently fell to her; her naïve human companions would have to learn how to lie someday, or at least learn to stop trying to answer the tough questions, but she supposed it'd do far more harm than good to force them onto the path of thievery before they were ready. "Magic," she decided eventually, crossing her arms.

"But… there's no such thing as magic," protested Sergei, raising his eyebrows. Artes, sure, but those at least had an explanation; Rose didn't remember what it was, and wondered for a brief moment what exactly differentiated the two of them—but that didn't matter at the moment.

"There is now," responded Rose shortly, meeting his eyes in an attempt to tell him to _stop asking_ , and Dezel snickered beside her: she turned her head towards him in astonishment along with Sorey and Alisha, and he jerked his head away to conceal his smirk of amusement.

"I take it… there are some seraphim with you?" asked Sergei tentatively, leaning forward and glancing in Dezel's general direction as if hoping to see for himself. To no avail, judging by the fact that his line of sight somehow managed to miss every single seraph present.

Sorey nodded and opened his mouth to say yes… but Alisha unexpectedly cut him off. "It's about to start," whispered the princess, prodding Sorey; at her insistent words, seraphim and humans alike obediently sat up and faced forward. As an old organist seated himself at his ancient instrument, the bells stopped, and it felt as though the pulse of the world itself had shuddered to a halt as the last resonant note rang through the capital.

But it started up again as the organist began to play, and Rose's eyes widened; a shiver ran up and down her spine at the unfamiliar tune. Apart from the bells a few moments before, she hadn't listened to real _music_ in a long time; after all, songs were a precious commodity, so apart from the occasional street musician's work, she'd hardly heard any after she'd left her family—especially since all their supplies had been stolen or scattered by now.

Back before she'd met Sorey, they'd played music almost every night, a tribute to Brad's love of song; Rose had spent many happy hours listening to him practice on his guitar. Even after his passing, Eguille was still the best fiddler she'd ever heard; Felice had been blessed with a lovely voice; Talfryn could play a mean harmonica; and Rosh had once handmade a tambourine. Even Lunarre, once he'd joined them, had sung for them often, and also had the sometimes unfortunate habit of turning anything and everything into percussion.

Overwhelmed by a thousand such memories of nights long gone, Rose found herself staring at the organist's nimble (if distant) fingers, envious of his ability to recreate such an entrancing song from a few black marks on a piece of paper. The extent of her contributions to her family's music nights had been to dance; she couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, and she couldn't play an instrument any better. Her only applicable skills had been a natural grace in her movements… and a willingness to suspend her pride for an hour or two out of every evening.

Maybe it was a new experience combined with a solemn setting, but the rapid notes of the organ struck a strange chord within Rose as she recalled those long-ago nights with the Sparrowfeathers, and she shivered once more. This too was music, but it was so different from the style to which she was accustomed; she hadn't realized that music alone could feel so sacred, yet also intimate. It reminded her altogether too much of that morning's realization; she forced her mind off Dezel again with some difficulty.

The tone seemed almost ominous, the key flitting effortlessly from minor to major and back again. But even as Rose noticed this, it shifted into another song, slowing down, and Lailah whispered some long-forgotten verse in the ancient tongue under her breath: the priest walked down the aisle, accompanied by two girls dressed in robes of purest white, each carrying a long golden candle-snuffer, a flame burning at each tip.

Starting from opposite ends of the row, the fire-bearers lit the five stained-glass lanterns: red and blue; yellow and green; and finally, together, white. Smiling faintly, Lailah extinguished their candles as they retracted their snuffers, but not before the flames glowed briefly azure: the girls exchanged an incredulous glance, but said nothing, only curtsying deeply as the priest passed them by.

With that, the last note of the song echoed through the hall with a sense of awe-inspiring finality—and then, there was absolute silence as the priest took his position behind the pulpit.

* * *

 _You know you're in it deep when you load a file on Zestiria for reference purposes and you're actually surprised that it reflects the canon storyline and not the one you made up. *shakes head* I'm officially hopeless._

 _And speaking of hopeless, we have to deal with chapter splits left and right, and this one's no exception; if I'd included the entire service, it'd end up being insanely long. But then again, it's not like you can really tell which chapters were and were not planned, since you haven't seen my original outline. Which, incidentally, dictated that this story should be thirty chapters long. Oh, how the times have changed; I can only pray that's been for the better.  
_

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Ugh, I know. I wish it could be otherwise, but no… and Rose has the nerve to call Dezel pragmatic! I'm honestly not sure whether she's noticed that she's started calling Dezel her seraph, but I'm pretty sure the others are going to chalk it up to her being his vessel, which is what initially started her on that path. And ding ding ding, you're right about the ring!_

 _ **NaotoShirogane:**_ _Oh, there are hints scattered here and there for several ships, and Sorisha's only one of them—and it's not even the only one for our Shepherd. And thank you for the compliments!_

 _ **bladegryphon:**_ _Yeah, it's pretty much a given that Dezel hasn't realized/acknowledged his own feelings yet. Or, if he has (doubtful given his proclivity for denial, as you said), he came to the same conclusion Rose did so long ago that by now he's just acclimated to the point that he doesn't recognize them anymore._

 _ **D:**_ _Rose's dream was related to the pact ring, and we know who has the other one, so start with "an unfamiliar girl's giggle" and guess again._


	33. Chapter 32: Soul Resonance

_Once more, the playlist for the service is on my profile. Also, the same disclaimer as last chapter still applies._

* * *

"Welcome, children of light," announced the head priest, glancing around at his congregation. His posture was dignified despite his age; his dark eyes seemed alight with wisdom; and his quiet voice sounded clear and strong as it echoed softly off the stone walls. "May the gods be with you in these troubled times."

"And also with you," returned his people, their voices a synchronized rumble, like mellifluous thunder; Rose found herself entranced. Even before the service had officially started, she could understand the grip religion held on the populace. In times of change and lack of control, these age-old words and rituals held a peculiar kind of comfort even to a skeptic like Rose; there was a powerful certainty curled up in this cathedral that could not be found in the wild.

"I see a few unfamiliar faces among you this morning," remarked the priest, nodding once regally in Rose's direction, and she jolted back to her body abruptly: a misstep here could prove fatal in the end. (Not that she thought a priest could vanquish the Shepherd, two Squires, and five seraphim, but… they shouldn't take any risks.) "Hail, faithful travelers. May Maotelus light your path."

"Thank you, Father," murmured Alisha, resting a few fingers on her chin and gesturing forward almost as if blowing a kiss as she dipped her head; Sorey and Rose hastily echoed her words and actions, exchanging a sidelong glance as they did so.

"Now, all rise," continued the priest, addressing the rest of his people once more, "and lift your voices. _Spread out the circle of living hearts,_ " he intoned, slipping into a prayer as easily as a knife into a heart, " _and sing in unison a song of regeneration. O healing melody of divine mercy, O magnificent song of seraphim, heed my call and become power incarnate._ Let the gods give grace."

"Let the gods give grace," echoed the congregation as one, Alisha among them, as they stood; Rose and Sorey hastily followed suit as the first impressive notes of a hymn resounded throughout the hall, elicited by the organist—and the bells above. No hymnals had been supplied, Rose realized; apparently, those in attendance were either supposed to know them already, or have brought their own books.

Three verses in, the song ended almost abruptly, and Rose glanced around nervously in the wake of sudden silence; the others sat down once more, satisfied that their song had driven away the darkness, and Rose sank back into her seat along with Sorey and Alisha, stiffening slightly as her head brushed against Dezel's arm once more. Yet, though he almost certainly felt her tense, he didn't bother moving: she gave a light sigh of exasperation.

"From the Tales of Aurora, here is the truth," began a golden-haired younger priest softly. "As Nayu laid eyes on his savior for the first time, he felt in his heart that fate had brought them together, for Maotelus spoke of Maltre in his mind: _In a single instant, thy pulses echo as thy hearts meet. Humans and seraphim, shine bright as one, thy bonds everlasting. Halt, O march of time, and make the moment eternal_."

" _Maltre_?" asked Dezel, his voice a quiet laugh a little like a growl; Rose's startled heart quickened at his unexpected voice beside her, and she glanced over at Alisha to see her blurry eyes downcast. And, however much she would have liked to laugh, Rose could not bring herself even to smile.

After all, the princess was perceptive enough to understand that they all sensed the irony of a hellion bearing a seraphistic name; there was no need for her to call more attention to it. As Dezel should have known, she added to herself, glancing at him reproachfully: a frown flickered across his face, suddenly somber once more, and he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head, perhaps in subtle apology.

"So Nayu found himself no longer afraid, and approached Maltre, saying, _O blossom of light, thou blindest me with thy beauty; the radiance of night shimmers and falls at thy feet_ ," the priest was saying, when she tuned in again. "As Maotelus delivered Nayu unto Maltre, so shall he deliver each of us to our destinies; and if they veil themselves from our vision, all will be revealed in time. So ends the Word."

"The Word is the truth," echoed the congregation, but Rose's mind flitted restlessly from thought to thought and meaning to meaning. Humans and seraphim as one? Eternal bonds? _Why now_? She stared determinedly at one of the columns in an effort not to show too much of her hand, but she thought she could feel Dezel's blind gaze sear her face anyway.

To her surprise, it was not the slow but sudden music of the organ and bells which drew her out of her thoughts this time, but rather an almost pained gasp from Lailah's direction. She glanced over at her, surprised and concerned, to find her eyes shimmering with a thousand emotions; most prominent among these were grief… and hope, or perhaps excitement.

Mikleo opened his mouth, ostensibly to ask if Lailah was all right, but she closed her eyes… and offered up her voice, the only one to be heard. " _Ne perdatis luces; cantum sanctum nunc accipite_ ," she sang, and a chill ran up and down Rose's spine as her voice quavered. She found herself wishing, if only for a moment, that the rest of the congregation could hear her mournful and dignified soprano: what a rare and beautiful privilege resonance was! " _Oro, canto, vobis—fiat lux_."

In accordance with a slight shift in the music, Lailah fell silent as if in respect or awe, bowing her head; Rose smiled faintly, but could not bring herself to speak even in a whisper, lest it break the spell that seemed to have settled upon them all. Likewise, Dezel did not, or perhaps could not, stir—except to release a long sigh as if in longing, his fingers twitching in her peripheral vision.

Rose glanced over at the others, wondering if they felt it too. Sorey's eyes were closed, a small smile tugging at his lips; Mikleo's mouth had dropped slightly open as he stared unabashedly at his Prime Lord. Alisha's eyes remained fixed on the ground, full of thoughts heavier than tears… but Zaveid gazed solemnly at Lailah's face as if searching for something, his fire-opal gaze warm with sorrowful admiration.

This was the _true_ Zaveid, thought Rose, resolving to commit the seriousness of his countenance to memory. It was so easy to forget that living in a world as harsh as this for thousands of years could not be as simple as he made it seem; the depth of the wounds he had suffered over the course of his lifetime thus far could not be fully healed with such a shallow salve, yet still he tried.

She remembered, as if waking from a dream, the anguish in his voice as he confronted them… and his long-forgotten assertion that another of Lailah's Shepherds had caused this. But Lailah's high clear voice distracted her before she could think on his accusation further; like the first, she sang the second verse alone: " _Spes, ne perdatis; cantum lucum nunc accipite_ ," she continued. Come to think of it, these lyrics didn't sound like what little she had heard of the ancient tongue, but it was certainly an archaic language: " _Dono animea—fiat lux._ "

A few more notes, and the song was over; silence fell as if the others sat in awe of her voice, though Rose knew full well none of them could have heard it. As if her task had been completed, Lailah vanished into Sorey as the elder priest took the pulpit again. "It has been said for time untold that our faith will protect us," he announced, "and that gratitude for the seraphim will summon them to our side."

"News flash: we're already here," snorted Edna from somewhere in Sorey, not troubling to keep her voice down, and Rose jumped violently, badly startled; Alisha tensed as well, and even Sorey seemed taken aback. Sergei glanced curiously in their direction, but could see nothing, and quickly returned his attention to the priest.

Dezel, meanwhile, turned his head to level a glare at the Shepherd's back as if he could pierce through to Edna; he moved his arm forward to press against Rose's upper back, his fingers curling protectively around her shoulder. Her breath caught at his touch, and she forced herself to inhale the rest of the way. This was no time to freak out; they'd come in contact with one another many times before, so there was no reason this time should be any different: she focused with some difficulty on the ongoing sermon instead.

"It has also been said, and is likewise true," the priest continued, "that malevolence is born of sin; for did Maotelus not say unto us, _I shall test thy resolve_?" He gazed around the room almost as if waiting for a response, but Rose knew better than to think any of them should speak up. "Only with careful discipline and adherence to the Seven Edicts may malevolence be deterred; for even the best of intentions can still lead to the bleakest of paths."

"Yeah, we all know the road to hell is paved with good intentions," agreed Zaveid; though Rose didn't start this time, she still tensed, though perhaps that was because Dezel's fingers had tightened on her shoulder. Glancing sideways at Rose, Zaveid grinned and continued, "But personally, I think there are a few better ways to get there."

She rolled her eyes; of course he'd slipped right back into his obnoxious persona at the first opportunity. Someday, she'd have to ask him why he kept doing that; there was no need for him to play a part like that, especially if it meant he'd bear the brunt of everyone's resentment.

"From the Tales of Aurora, here is the truth," continued the head priest. "Simoth begged the heavens to resurrect Maltre, clutching her lifeless body to his chest in anguish: _O magnificent and divine embrace that fosters life, O gentle breeze, ease our pain, so that we may always look to the brilliant light of hope. Ye whose eyes are closed, beat the rhythm of thy heart once more!_ But no power could return his sister's soul; and her blood soaked into his heart, making him malevolent with vengefulness.

"Thus was pure and virtuous Simoth corrupted, and though he sought to end the strife for which Maltre had died, the divided land suffered still more under the burden of his profane wrath. So ends the Word." There was no response from those assembled this time, but it wouldn't have mattered to Rose either way; Dezel had gone rigid in her peripheral vision.

She turned her head to look at him, frowning in concern as well as confusion; but she couldn't ask aloud what was wrong. It took longer than she would have liked to muster the courage to rest her hand softly on his thigh: Mikleo glanced over at them curiously as Dezel jumped and twitched as if to scoot away, but the water seraph thankfully only shook his head and quickly turned his gaze back to the priest.

Before he could escape from her, Rose dug her fingers into him, urging him to stay put; taking a deep breath, she prepared herself. If she couldn't speak, the least she could do would be to write. **_tell me whats wrong_** , she traced on his leg slowly, one letter at a time, and Dezel crossed his arms after a brief pause—perhaps struggling to disentangle the meaning from her letters. (Too late, she remembered that reading the wind still might not grant him stellar reading abilities.)

"Lafarga," he mumbled finally, so quietly Rose had to lean in to hear. "Even with a vessel like you, my turmoil should have corrupted us both that day. I should… I should be a hellion. Why…?" As he trailed off, Rose shook her head and opened her mouth, almost forgetting that she shouldn't speak aloud; was that really all that was bothering him? **_im glad youre not a hellion_** , she wrote back, more gradually still. _**never mind the reason. thats not important. whats important is youre still a seraph and youre here**. _ She paused, debating whether to continue, before adding tentatively, **_with me_**.

Dezel glanced over at her in apparent surprise to meet her eyes, his lips parting slightly to reveal those jagged teeth, but the priest's booming voice interrupted them, and Rose almost thought she'd gotten caught: "Rid yourselves of the malevolence!" commanded the priest to his people, raising his hands. "For as Maotelus suppressed the malevolence in the world, so too must we suppress the malevolence in our own souls. From the Tales of Origins, here is the truth…"

Rose was all set to turn her mind back to her one-sided conversation with Dezel if it meant dodging yet another reading, but Alisha reached over to nudge her with a sense of urgency: no broken silence was necessary for Rose to see in her fellow Squire's bright green eyes that she'd want to listen to this particular excerpt. Rose couldn't imagine that it was anything especially important, but far be it from her to ignore the advice of a trusted ally…

"The humans in the care of the Five Lords watched the day and night struggle against one another from afar, awed by the display of such power," began the priest. "And light overpowered the darkness on the fifth cycle, releasing the First Shepherd from his blackened grasp; and Maotelus spoke to the Nameless One with harsh words, for slaying him would breed malevolence: _Trembling cage that bends empty space, drive the wedge of freedom into those whom would be captured. Thy fatal prison awaits; stand in thrall at the bars of thy scarlet cell, and struggle against the chains of divinity!_

"Yet as he was sealed in an eternal prison, the Nameless One whispered his last words, and with them cursed the world: _All must partake in my baptism of shadow, for darkness, death, and oblivion approach from the gates of chaos to devour thee._ Thus was the Nameless One bound by all the elements and imprisoned in the center of the earth, his corruptive malevolence forever flowing forth like a fountain of blood.

"But Maotelus had broken his oath, and thus could remain no longer in the land of the living; but he spoke once more to his servants, both seraph and human: _O power that lies in the root of all creation, O memory inscribed in ages past, hear my call and arise before me! Gather forth the fragments of light around me; O brilliance, reveal thy destructive wrath: thou who wouldst take revenge, carve here thy holy seal. Hunt the sinful and avenge the fallen; rend the earth, and strike down the hellions. Only then will the world know peace._ And Maotelus departed to the spirit world with this as his last edict.

"So ends the Word," concluded the priest; Rose had been so involved in the passage that she hadn't had time even to consider its deeper meaning. But it had still proven valuable in the end, she reflected, nodding at Alisha as subtly as possible by way of showing her gratitude; so this was how those without resonance saw malevolence…

"The Word is the truth," rumbled the congregation. This Nameless One must have been the first Lord of Calamity; it stood to reason that the people assumed he had been the source of malevolence, instead of the other way around. Though it did set her mind wandering: once they vanquished the current Lord of Calamity, how long would it take before a new one would replace him? Was it even possible to create a world without malevolence…?

Another prayer distracted her: " _Celestial choir, the light of redemption, thy faithful servants asketh for thy blessing_ ," added the quieter priest, raising a delicate hand skyward as if calling upon some unseen power. " _Spirits who dance upon the wind, grace us with thy purifying melody, and honor us with the splendor of thy song._ Let the gods give grace."

"Let the gods give grace," agreed the congregation, and this time, Rose joined them. Another hymn, then. Though she at least expected the music this time, she found herself woefully underprepared for the force of its beginning: she shuddered, though it was not unpleasant to the ear. Ominous and somehow vengeful, almost like a military march, it gripped Rose in an almost physical sensation.

Perhaps this raw power was reserved for a few verses at a time, because only a couple passed before the song came to an end—and another one, quite different in tone and mood, began before Rose could sit down. Again, she could pick out no words; but this time, there didn't seem to _be_ any words. In fact, if Rose had to guess, she'd say they were just the same seven syllables repeated in a different order.

Maybe this was the ancient tongue; it certainly didn't have the same tone to it as Lailah's solo song earlier. In fact, this one sounded familiar and almost… happy; its words were soft and gentle, almost like a lullaby. Alisha too seemed satisfied with this choice of song; apparently, this was part of Hylander tradition too, as she sang it well with contented countenance. Even without understanding the lyrics, Rose could feel a profound love for the world lightening every word… corroborated in the rich, rough tenor behind her.

Her heart skipped a beat at the realization, as much in surprise as infatuation. Dezel? Singing? _Ever_? That was a new one, and Rose liked it. He didn't have a bad voice, she thought, shifting from side to side and smiling slightly; in fact, he hit just about every note he aimed for, though she couldn't help but think he sounded a little out of practice. Maybe she'd be able to convince him to sing for her now and again once this was all over…

"Dezel?" asked Mikleo, immediately after the song came to an end, and he and Rose both turned his head sharply in his direction. Dezel glared at him warily, all trace of contentment gone, and Mikleo cleared his throat awkwardly. "Were you _singing_ just now?" he asked, drawing Sorey and Alisha's attention as well. Thankfully, Zaveid's focus remained elsewhere—though, upon closer examination, he seemed to be forcing himself not to get involved.

"So what if I was?" Dezel shot back, turning a vivid shade of red, and pulled his hat down lower over his eyes. "Leave me _alone_ ," he added in a growl, and fell silent with such a stubborn sense of finality that Rose doubted very much whether he would speak for the rest of the service… let alone sing again.

Either way, the service wasn't going to stop for his sake: "Maotelus decreed, _Grant tribute unto us in the form of prayer. My servants will aid thy power to recite; may thy words be fleet and mighty._ Thus do we speak the Strands as he taught us, saying…" All spoke together now, Alisha included—heads bowed all around as they recited a long series of holy sentences.

But Rose had no desire to try and mumble along an approximation, opting instead to try and placate the still-irate Dezel. **_you have a good voice_** , she decided, tracing letters on his leg once more. **_sing for me again sometime?_** she added, more tentatively, and glanced up at him questioningly—her heartbeat quickening as their eyes met. "Not on purpose," he muttered, and staunchly refused to respond further, even when she wrote **_pretty please with a cherry on top_** , complete with simplistic illustration.

"Now, let us partake of the Strands ourselves," announced the priest, and Rose realized that five different attendants had set up stations of sorts, standing all in a row—and yes, there was the offering bowl at the very end! "Come forth as you are able to receive the blessing of the seraphim."

At his words, the organ started up again, a more subdued tone; this was more akin to background music, setting the stage for something greater. Row by row, the congregation made their tiny pilgrimage up to the altar; Rose thanked the gods they weren't the first to go, or she'd have had no clue what to do.

…And anyway, if the offering bowl was apparently a mandatory part of service, Rose had better make damn sure everyone had something to give; wordlessly, she fished around in one of her pouches for money, and handed ten gald apiece to Sorey and Alisha. Her family had suggested this, so today's service was on her. She got to their feet before either of her fellow humans could protest, and the three of them followed Sergei out to wait in line to… what had he said… 'partake of the Strands', or whatever.

All Rose's companions went first, thankfully, so she had some idea what to expect when her turn came; taking a deep breath, she stepped through each stage of the ritual. The first priest murmured something about Musiphe and marked her forehead with ash, streaking a dusty gray finger in a horizontal arc like a monochrome rainbow.

The next priest proffered a silver chalice of purest water, bidding her drink in the name of Amenoch; she took a sip obediently, and he wiped the rim with a handkerchief: immediately afterwards, the next priest bade her eat of the fruits of the land begotten by Eumacia, and she received a slice of some sort of soft dried fruit—a little like a peach or perhaps apricot, the color of gold.

Still chewing, Rose walked a few more cautious steps to the next priest, who asked her to take five deep breaths and allow Hyanoa to cleanse her through that most holy of rhythms. And finally, when that was over with…

"Welcome, my daughter," smiled the softer-spoken priest; upon closer examination, his outwardly kindly expression did not reach his dark eyes, which seemed sharper than usual up close—calculating and almost cold. "Any contribution you can make is much appreciated," he added, his voice steel in velvet, but Rose's attention was on the offering bowl. No iris gems.

Disappointed and troubled, but not especially surprised, she rested ten gald in the dish with a muted jingle: his eyes narrowed slightly before he smiled up at her again, inclining his head slightly by way of dismissal. No wonder they put him in charge of the donations, she thought, making her way back to her seat; no surreptitious glance over the offerings could get past someone as observant as him.

"How shallow is that?" snorted Dezel, crossing his arms and nodding towards the priest with the offering bowl. "Pretending little donations like that actually make a difference whether you're saved or not. Maotelus is _gone_ ," he added, and Rose could imagine Lailah flinch inside Sorey. "Offerings like that won't bring him back."

"I guess it's the thought that counts," muttered Mikleo, though he didn't look particularly happy either. "More importantly, I think we all noticed that there are no iris gems this time around, unless one of the last few people drops one in—which isn't exactly likely. Do we have a backup plan?"

Alisha pursed her lips. "In Rolance, there's usually confession after the weekly service," she told them, glancing at Sorey and Rose out either corner of her eye. "One of us could ask a priest about the Earthen Historia then, just to make sure. It's private, anyway, so… no one else should overhear."

"I'll do it," volunteered Rose, and her companions all stared at her; but though plenty of them seemed worried, none of them were surprised. Good. They ought to know her by now.

Sorey shook his head in affectionate exasperation. "Just be careful," he sighed. "Alisha and I will wait for you outside. Come get us if… something goes wrong." He glanced apprehensively at Sergei as he spoke, but the captain seemed to be listening to the parting blessing instead.

" _O power that tries souls, shine forth; light of redemption that guides us to daybreak_ ," concluded the elder priest, " _listen to my voice. Holy prayers will be spoken for all eternity. I call upon thee, heavenly messengers, to grant us thy blessing; come forth, O mighty seraphim, and offer us fortune. Now, let there be light!_ Let the gods give grace."

"Let the gods give grace," returned the congregation, and with that, the organist took up one last slow and solemn tune; but the service had come to an end, as the people were free to speak. As soon as she was sure she wouldn't be calling too much undue attention to herself, Rose got up and stretched, a soft squeal deepening into a yawn, and straightened up again to find a farewell in progress.

"Thank you for allowing me to sit next to you, Sorey," remarked Sergei, getting to his feet, and gave them a short bow and a small sad smile. "I'm sorry I can't help you all more. I don't expect that the Scattered Bones are behind this more recent string of murders, but…" He hesitated as if he wanted to say more, but stopped himself.

Sorey and Alisha seemed at a loss for what to say or do as the space between them turned almost tangibly thick and dark, so Rose shook her head. "Don't worry, I think we get it," she assured him, and he relaxed slightly. "You have a job to do, and you have to do it. It's the same with us." She debated telling him that the Scattered Bones were in fact innocent, but decided it would just make it harder for him to perform his duty; instead, she simply smiled.

"I'll… leave you to it, then," responded Sergei. "Tomorrow, we'll find ourselves on opposite sides of the law, so I hope we won't meet again until we can put all this behind us." Bless his idealistic heart, thought Rose; he and Sorey were really two of a kind. "Until next time, Shepherd… Princess… milady," he added courteously, bowing once more and glancing up at the three of them in turn, and finally walked away.

"So, now what?" asked Edna before any of them could say anything, emerging from Sorey and shouldering her parasol. "You gonna be a good girl and confess your sins, Rose?" she added, tossing a blank blue gaze in her direction.

As Zaveid chuckled, Rose dipped her head, unable to help but grin at the very idea. She'd committed more sins than she cared to count, but she didn't want any of their false absolution; she was actually all set to try out a few more. "Dezel, you're coming too, right?" she added, glancing over at her seraph, who inclined his head by way of affirmative as though she'd stated the obvious.

"Both of you better get out of this mess in one piece," Zaveid told them, stretching, and cracked his neck and back with an alarming series of pops and snaps. "What?" he asked defensively, as everyone stared at him with varying degrees of shock and disgust. "I've got some old bones—which means if you two fall apart before I do, we're gonna have a talk."

"It's just confession," responded Rose, raising her eyebrows. "And if we run into trouble, I'm sure we'll either be able to fight them off ourselves or find you before it becomes an issue. It's not like we're splitting up again or anything, right?" She searched her companions' fuzzy eyes; they weren't about to run off on her, were they…?

"Right," responded Sorey, glancing back at his semi-serious Sub Lord curiously. "Anyway, we'll wait for you outside as promised," he added, taking Alisha and Mikleo's arms gently and guiding them both out to the aisle; Zaveid followed them. "If you're not back in half an hour, we'll come looking for you."

"And you don't want that," added Edna, smirking faintly, and opened her parasol to twirl it as she followed the remainder of her companions; she did not look at them as she continued. "Have fun, kids. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"I guess that means we're not allowed to smile," muttered Dezel, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth as their friends made their way out the door; Rose giggled despite herself, and a grin broke across his face. She could sense what he did not, or perhaps could not, say: he was relieved to be alone with her again.

"Or say how we really feel about anything," she agreed—but only after the words left her mouth did she realize the implications of what she'd said: the uncertain tension that arose so suddenly between them was unbearable. She could see a question in Dezel's blind gaze, but as much as it hurt to gloss over it, she was powerless to answer him.

"N-never mind," mumbled Rose, glancing away from him; bowing her head, she clasped her hands. "If I want to be forgiven for everything I've done, maybe I'd better start praying. I got a lot of crimes to clear." And, though he said nothing, Dezel closed his sightless eyes and removed his hat, holding it over his heart in a clear gesture of reverence… like he was praying too.

"What are _you_ praying for?" she asked tentatively, glancing up sideways at him. "Nobody can see you. Hell, you could take a nap, and no one would care." Dezel opened one eye to glare at her as if intending to silence her with a look, though some nameless emotion softened his expression so that she did not recoil.

But he still seemed to have no intention of answering her initial question, so she tried a different one instead: "Anyway, if humans pray to seraphim, who do seraphim pray to?" A muscle in Dezel's jaw tightened, and Rose thought he would ignore her entirely, and she supposed he would be well within his rights to do so—but eventually he let out a long light sigh.

"I _don't_ pray," he responded, rubbing his forehead agitatedly. "I just… think of the sky. It's stupid, I know," he added hastily, as if expecting Rose to make fun of him, "but that's the guiding force for a seraph of the wind. If you offer a prayer to anything sentient, all you'll ever get is silence." He shook his head. "The sky doesn't promise anything like that, but it doesn't care about sins and forgiveness, either. It's just… there. Always. And it listens."

Dezel took a deep breath, glancing away almost self-consciously; he seemed so certain Rose would think less of him somehow, though she couldn't for the life of her imagine why. Sure, he hadn't ever spoken to her much about his personal views on deeper things like religion and philosophy, but that didn't mean she didn't want to hear about it. In fact, now that he'd said something, she found herself more curious about him than ever.

"H-hey," began Rose, before she even knew what she was saying, and stopped short as she realized she had no idea what she wanted to say; but of course the one time she wanted Dezel to ignore her, he turned his face back towards her slowly instead, and the world turned airless. What was she going to say…?

Fortunately, she didn't have to think for long before she hit on a suggestion. "When all this is over," she told Dezel, "once the sky is clear again, let's sit together and watch the sunset." She hadn't realized how much she'd missed the sun—not just for the warmth and dryness, but for all the colors it brought to the world. And then, she added to herself, while they were watching the sunset, she could tell him what she couldn't tell him now.

"Let's watch the sunset," she continued as he nodded in silent agreement, "and after that, let's watch the stars come out. And maybe we'll see a few of them fall. Do you…" She swallowed convulsively as she realized abruptly that her throat had turned tight. _Is it gonna stop_? she'd asked Sorey, what seemed like so long ago: her question still stood. What if the sun never came out again? What if this was all just wishful thinking…? "Do you wish on shooting stars, Dezel?" she finished finally, gazing fixedly at the ground.

She felt Dezel's eyes on her face before she looked up to see him searching her expression; she felt herself flush, realizing too late how childish a question that was. It was probably unique to humans, and most commonly young ones at that; besides, for all she knew, he couldn't _see_ the stars. But after a small pause, the corner of his mouth tugged gently up. "Yes," he told her softly, and her eyes widened. "Because the stars don't lie. Now," he added a little more forcefully, baring his sharp teeth in a smile, "shut up and pray."

Rose rolled her eyes as her seraph broke the moment neatly in two; but she supposed reluctantly that Edna had had a point beyond her usual deadpan snarking when she'd told them not to do anything she wouldn't do. It was for the best that they keep their distance, no matter how tantalizing thoughts of a shared sunset may be.

But of all the lingering uncertainties in her mind, Rose knew better than to ask Dezel to whom she should direct her prayers: from now on, she'd talk to the sky.

* * *

 _Holy wow, I did not expect to be able to cram this many references into a single chapter. In fact, I think I've probably expended my references for the entire rest of the story. It took a long-ass time to synthesize all those incantations into coherent prayers, let me tell you…_

 _Anyway, sorry for the longer-than-usual hiatus! I, um, kind of got lost in Hakuoki hell thanks to a certain one of your number, but I clawed my way out of the darkness (following Maotelus's light—you know, not Maotelus-Maotelus, but tumblr's Maotelus, check 'em out if you haven't already) long enough to finish and post this. Of course, I'll probably sink right back down to the depths now that the chapter's done, but… we'll see._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Yeah, well, it'll help for people who don't already know them personally… And as for the Squire-vs-Shepherd bit, Rose *wants* to become a Shepherd, but she hasn't followed through yet or even told anyone about it, in part because she doesn't know how._

 _ **Arthur Moebius:**_ _Wow, thank you so much for the compliments! That you could offer such praise after only five or six chapters means a lot… though of course the silence that followed your, ah, succession of freakouts does make me wonder whether you still mean it. Either way, you're not alone in shipping Mikleo/Edna, though I must say Sorey/Rose is simultaneously my Zestiria brotp and notp. (Perhaps they are my notp precisely because they are my brotp.)_

 _ **CWolf2:**_ _Thanks! Hope you like the service as much as the prelude…_

 _ **Linake11:**_ _I'm your favorite Dezerose author? *blushes* You're making me feel like some sort of celebrity. Anyway, wow, thank you so much! That bit about liking my story more due to my level of characterization in a canon context does make sense to me, and I'm seriously flattered. Also, don't worry, I have no intention of letting this story die. And I love a good pun! Best way ever to end a review._


	34. Chapter 33: The High and Mighty Fallen

"So… is there an actual plan?"

How long had Rose been pretending to pray before Dezel spoke again? His question might have startled her if his voice hadn't been so low and soft, albeit edged with a growl. At first, Rose only let out a long breath in response. He'd known her basically all her life, right? Why start asking stupid questions like that _now_?

"Of course not," she told him, and though she intended her words to be flippant, she couldn't hide an undercurrent of worry. Dezel didn't even have to respond for her to realize that she sounded uncharacteristically uncertain; he just looked at her, with his blind eyes, and Rose sighed again.

"Well, sort of," she amended. "I'll tell the priest I hear the voices of the seraphim, and that they're telling me to look for the iris gems." She paused, shaking her head. "They probably won't believe me, and even if they do, they might not know anything—but, as Sorey said, it's worth a shot. We don't have any other leads at the moment, anyway."

"I guess you're right," muttered Dezel, shaking his head. "I don't like this, Rose. The sooner we get this over with, the better." She stared at him, astonished despite herself; when he specifically used her name after she already knew he was talking to her, something was definitely up. She found herself recalling, with a small and reminiscent smile, the amount of effort it had taken for her to get him to call her by anything other than 'you'.

"What?" demanded Dezel, the barest hint of defensiveness in his tone, and crossed his arms over his bare chest as if to shield himself from her eyes. Rose couldn't help but smile faintly as he hugged his arms around himself uncomfortably, his lip tugging slightly up to reveal sharp teeth in the beginnings of a snarl. He had zero reason to be insecure or ashamed about his appearance, and in any case, she hadn't been checking him out anyway.

…Still, it was pretty cute that he thought she was. Given the way she'd been acting towards him lately, she couldn't in all honesty say she was surprised he assumed that to be the case. "Nothing," Rose decided, turning her eyes back to the altar just as one of the doors opened.

She let out a somewhat strangled sigh as a figure emerged; of _course_ it was the pale-haired, dark-eyed priest in charge of the offering bowl. Then again, this could be her chance to explain herself; at the very least, the priest didn't look surprised to see her. Silently, he half-smiled at her and beckoned her to come closer, and—once Dezel had put his hat back on and passed her by, so he wouldn't get left behind—she got to her feet and approached him.

They did not speak until they arrived at the entrance to the labyrinth of color-coded corridors, before the epigraph that Masedra had memorized. How long ago had she stood in almost the same place, examining this monument with Sorey…? Everything seemed so much… _simpler_ back then. Before Forton, before the four trials, before Heldalf and Maotelus. Rose never thought she'd miss those days, but looking back, they'd been pretty easy.

"Kneel before the inscription," commanded the priest, and Rose jolted to action and hastily obeyed. " _O holy one, cast thy purifying light upon this corrupt soul_ ," intoned the priest. " _Eternal light of sacred powers, ever true and undefiled, grant this wanton sinner before me the majesty of thy judgment. Absolve her of her sins, and grant her safe passage; restrain the wicked, and render demons to ashes._ Let the gods give grace."

"Let the gods give grace," breathed Rose reluctantly, unsure whether she was supposed to speak aloud, and perhaps a minute of silence followed her whisper. Surely they weren't actually waiting for the heavens to strike her down? Rose dared to glance at the priest out the corner of her eye, only to find his eyes closed, flickering beneath their lids, as though he stood in solitary meditation.

But even as she watched him, his eyes opened again and focused on her; there was no time for her to act as though she had not been watching him, and she felt the color rise to her cheeks. "I am Father Amethor," explained the priest coolly, his eyes as piercing as ever as he scrutinized her carefully. "What troubles you, my child?"

Rose swallowed. It was surprisingly easy to feign shyness, given the general surreality of the situation. "I—I think I can hear the voices of the seraphim, Father," she mumbled, as timidly as she could. If she wanted to pull this off, she had to step outside herself for a moment and take a leaf out of Alisha's book. Be polite and diffident, she told herself firmly.

Amethor laughed lightly, and Rose sighed; of course he didn't believe her. But her thoughts and body both froze in shock as he spoke: "That is hardly a surprise," he chuckled softly, though there seemed to be something… _off_ about his benevolence. "You wear a pact ring, do you not?"

It took all Rose's strength not to turn her head and stare at him. "O-oh," she stammered, gazing down at the ring on her finger and trying desperately to formulate an appropriate response. "Is that what this is? I… I received it as a gift."

Thankfully, Amethor did not inquire further into the ring's origins, merely nodding once—the motion slow and shallow—in acceptance of her awkward alibi. "What do the seraphim tell you?" he asked her, a strange and half-subtle intensity to his voice.

"Th-they ask me to gather the iris gems," she managed; she couldn't meet his insistent dark eyes. Excellent liar though she may be, she'd never considered herself much of an _actress_ , and it was much more nerve-wracking than she would have anticipated for her to act differently for extended periods of time. (Then again, at least her princess persona allowed for lack of eye contact.) "I don't know why."

"Do they ever reveal their presence, or simply convey divine messages?" asked Amethor gently, urgently, and Rose mulled the question over in her mind, keeping her expression as blank as possible. She couldn't so much as look at Dezel to consult him; how much of her hand she should show was up to her, and her alone.

"Sometimes… I think I see people," managed Rose uncertainly, daring to look up at Amethor's face with affected fear. If she wanted to keep up this ruse, she had to take all the unease he inspired and bring it to the surface in a normal human reaction; somehow, she doubted that many innocent girls shared her personal instinct to slam this priest against the wall and interrogate him till she got answers.

"I too was frightened at first," Amethor reassured her kindly, evidently buying her act (to her secretive satisfaction), "but if you only open your heart, they will show you the way… as they have shown me."

Caught in the middle of an inhalation, Rose almost choked. "C-can you see the seraphim, too?" she spluttered, her eyes widening in genuine shock, and this time she couldn't resist turning her head to stare up at him and search his pointed face. Okay, of all the things she had definitely not been expecting, that was probably the least anticipated of them all.

…Then again, the more she considered his behavior and attitude, the more it made sense; Rose wished she'd kept a closer eye on him during the service to see if he'd seen her interacting with the seraphim.

"Yes, child, I do," responded Amethor quietly, his eyes glittering like obsidian. "In fact, I have reason to believe there is a seraph with you now." And he directed his sharp and solemn gaze directly at Dezel, inclining his head in a gesture of respect: Rose traced his gaze, praying her recognition didn't show on her face, to find that her seraph's jaw had slackened slightly in shock.

She had only a split second before Amethor turned back to her, however, and made a split-second decision. Imitating Alisha had gotten her through most of her confession, but now, it was time to try Lailah's over-the-top improvisation on for size. No matter how terrible an actress Rose was, it had worked on Sergei, right…?

Taking a deep breath, trying to calm her pounding heart, she clasped her hands before her as if in fervent prayer. "If indeed I am graced with the presence of a seraph," she managed, squeezing her eyes shut to avoid having to look at either member of her in all likelihood incredulous audience, "please, if you would deign to speak to my unworthy self…"

She trailed off, unsure where the sentence should go from there. Sure, she'd successfully used the word 'deign' (Alisha would be impressed), but grammatically speaking, she had no idea what could possibly come next. This was unpleasantly reminiscent of Rosh's language tests, back in the day, only she was under a hell of a lot more pressure to perform in the present.

Fortunately, Dezel interrupted her racing thoughts. "I am with you," he replied simply, in his usual stoic fashion, and Rose stifled a sigh of relief that he had come to her rescue. Too late, she realized that she did not jump as if his voice had been unexpected; she stole a sidelong glance at the priest to find that all his focus thankfully rested on Dezel instead.

"If I may ask, what greater purpose have you given this girl?" asked Amethor, his gaze calm and level as he surveyed Dezel carefully. Though he was several inches shorter than the seraph, and a good deal less powerful, his gaze never wavered, and Rose might have been impressed if she hadn't been so nervous.

"She must assemble the Earthen Historia and bring them all to Lohgrin," replied Dezel warily, and Rose winced. How much of the truth should they really tell a man as mysterious and unnerving as this…?

Regardless of Dezel's potential misstep, the show must go on. "I am but one human," protested Rose, her voice acquiring a more dramatic tinge. It was remarkably easy to get carried away, she realized; she'd have to keep that in mind whenever she got annoyed with Lailah's antics from here on out. "How am I to find the iris gems alone?"

Rose didn't dare look at Dezel, but she wished she could see the expression on his face as he replied: "You must give your life to searching," he responded, a faint smile in his voice, "and by the strength of your faith, I know you will succeed."

When did he get so good at sounding godly? It was all Rose could do not to snicker at the shift; if the others were here, he'd never live it down. "O-oh, thank you," she exclaimed instead, filling her voice with as much exaggerated gratitude as was believable.

Amethor smiled thinly, but the gesture did not reach his eyes. "I may be able to help you," he told her. "I myself possess an iris gem, and one of my colleagues has one as well, though the fool regards it as a good-luck charm and took it with it on a research trip to the Lhitwerg Woods. I, however," he continued, "will obey the edict of the seraphim and make a gift of my iris gem to you. I am certain my colleague will understand as well, unless he too is weak-willed."

Rose almost responded with her traditional _I owe you one_ , but remembered her Alisha impression just in time and instead remarked, "I am in your debt. How can I ever repay you?"

Amethor shook his head. "No repayment is necessary, my child," he chuckled. "If you can truly hear the voices of the seraphim, then you are a kindred spirit I have never before found. If you wish," he added, his eyes taking on a manic gleam Rose didn't like at all, "I can demonstrate the lessons they have taught me this evening. You are of course welcome to accompany her, honored seraph," he added, turning to Dezel and bowing humbly.

Rose frowned, taking the opportunity to look Amethor carefully up and down as he finally took his piercing eyes off her. His calm exterior belied a peculiar, restless excitement, betrayed in a trembling of his fingers, a twitch in his shoulder—and Rose gasped as Morgrim's earlier warning drifted back to the forefront of her consciousness.

 _A hellion, a seraph, or an extraordinarily resonant human…_ Rose was no detective, but Amethor definitely fit the bill. Dezel, meanwhile, inclined his head: "I will defer to her judgment," he said simply, nodding back towards Rose, and Amethor shifted his gaze back to her inquisitively, awaiting her answer.

…As long as she came prepared to kill, it should be fine. "S-sure," responded Rose, before she remembered abruptly to use more formal language and amended hastily, "That is, I—I would love to learn anything you have to teach me."

"Excellent," responded Amethor, offering her a smile that chilled her to the bone not because it was cold, but because it was _genuine_. For this to be the first real smile he offered… well, it didn't bode well for whatever he had in store. "I have long awaited the opportunity to share my teachings with those who may believe them. Please, meet me here at midnight," he added. "I'll give you my iris gem then."

Rose nodded, moving to get to her feet and leave—but Amethor pushed her down again by the back of her neck, his fingers like steel, pushing precisely against her pressure points. She gasped, tensing, and Dezel stiffened in her peripheral vision… but, alarmingly, the priest didn't seem to notice anything amiss about his actions.

"You must first be blessed," he chided her, and Rose forced herself to relax. " _Primordial illumination, the fount of life for all things, roar forth this once and show us thy strength. Light, shine through and banish the darkness; guide this poor soul so she may rise anew, and grant her thine undefiled purity._ Let the gods give grace."

"L-let the gods give grace," muttered Rose, and Amethor finally released her, his touch lingering. As she got to her feet in a hurry, he walked her and Dezel back to the main hall as silently as they had come in, as if leaving all evidence of his potential treachery behind. Dezel placed his hand on her shoulder protectively, and Rose jumped, struggling not to look at him.

As they arrived at the door to the altar area, Amethor's cool gaze seared them both, but Dezel's grip only tightened as he glanced over at him. Rose wished she could see his expression; Amethor's reaction betrayed nothing: "Until midnight, then," he told her, bowing deeply, and Rose glanced back and nodded reluctantly.

Whatever tonight brought her, it was going to be a long night.

* * *

True to their word, Sorey and Alisha waited outside—but Rose could tell within a few seconds that something had changed, and it wasn't good.

"All right, what's up?" asked Rose, brushing Dezel's hand off her shoulder reluctantly. Neither Sorey nor Alisha seemed able to meet her eyes; Rose bit her lip, her heart beating faster. Had the Scattered Bones been captured again already…? But Sergei had said…

It was Edna who answered first. "These stupid humans are fighting again," she remarked dispassionately, emerging from Sorey and tapping the point of her parasol against the latest post on the bulletin board across from them; Rose glanced over to find a poster announcing the official reignition of war between Hyland and Rolance.

"Lastonbell is on the verge of falling to Hylander troops," supplied Mikleo solemnly, materializing to lean against the wall. "If they capture the city, they'll probably march on the capital as soon as they can. They think the Shepherd was working with the royal family to kidnap the princess."

Rose's breath caught; no wonder Sorey and Alisha seemed so despondent. They probably thought this was all their fault. Zaveid didn't seem to share the same concerns for their opinions, as he made his appearance and laced his fingers behind his head. "If Hyland attacks Pendrago, the siege alone will probably last months," he remarked. "And that, combined with this weather, will probably be enough to convince everyone that the apocalypse has come."

"That's ridiculous," returned Lailah, trying to scold him, though her voice sounded more desperate than anything else, and she did not show herself as she spoke. "There's no apocalypse; the world's just ending."

There was a brief pause, during which Edna rolled her eyes, and Dezel gave a faint choking noise a little like a laugh; Sorey let out a long sigh, but it was clear he wasn't paying the least bit of attention to Lailah and her paradoxical phrasing. " _Please_ tell me you have good news," he murmured, glancing between Rose and Dezel.

Rose bit her lip. What could she tell him? Her meeting with Amethor may have netted her the promise of one iris gem and a hint to the whereabouts of the other, but… "Yes and no," she decided, crossing her arms. "I know the location of the last two iris gems, and one of them's here in Pendrago, but I have to meet with the murderer at midnight if I want it. His name's Father Amethor, and—"

"You _what_?" interrupted Zaveid, and Rose would have expected him to stare at her, but instead, his gaze slid over to Dezel, standing partially behind her. "And you're just gonna let her do this?"

"I would have objected if Amethor couldn't see the seraphim," growled Dezel, his frustration clear, and Rose narrowed his eyes as he turned to her. "Leave this one to Sorey and Alisha," he added, and she pursed her lips. "You and I need to get the Scattered Bones out of here before the Platinum Knights get on their scent."

Rose shook her head in exasperation. Of course he had a point, but… "Sorey and Alisha can take care of that," she told him. "Amethor knows what my pact ring does. And besides," she added, before anyone could interrupt, "if Sorey and Alisha go after him, the guy would never be brought to justice. He's asking for death, and I don't think either of them are killers like me."

"Please don't tell me we're splitting up again," muttered Mikleo, glancing sideways at his vessel; Rose followed his gaze to find Sorey looking crestfallen. "I'm not sure how much more of this Sorey can take."

Rose pursed her lips. "Only for a little while," she promised, as reassuringly as she could. "If we agree to start on our way tonight, then you can take my family with you to the outskirts, and Dezel and I can meet you there after the deed is done. Then, we can all travel together until we find somewhere safe to leave the Sparrowfeathers, and continue on our mission."

"But… what if you need backup?" protested Sorey, frowning. For all the concern in his words, it was all too clear that his mind was still on the reignited war; Rose supposed the Shepherd couldn't move on too quickly from a major event like that, especially if he thought it was at least partially his fault.

Dezel only scoffed at him, crossing his arms. "You think I can't even handle a priest?" he asked scornfully. "He may have high resonance, but he's still just a human. The point is," he continued, "I can protect Rose fine on my own. You _should_ be worrying about how you're going to get the Scattered Bones out of town."

Sorey nodded once, shortly. "R-right," he responded reluctantly, and there seemed to be no more to say; Dezel's tone had left no room for argument. No one even seemed to breathe for a moment before Lailah voiced a faint suggestion that they return to the inn, and even then, most of them moved with shuffling steps, weighed down by uncertainty.

Even Rose couldn't help but move more slowly, burdened by doubt. Her job was to take life, and she'd have to make good on that again tonight. But did that really mean anything if she couldn't give that life back to her friends when they needed it most?

* * *

Try as she might, Rose couldn't for the life of her sleep. Once the Scattered Bones had been briefed, everyone had elected to spend as much of the day as possible resting in preparation for the journey to come.

But, though Rose tried continuously to close her eyes and drift away, sleep never visited. She couldn't stand insomnia, because it forced her to think; there was little else she _could_ do except to mull over her life choices. Or lack thereof. She must have rethought her entire life at least five times by the time they headed out.

Rose's uniform had never felt so tight before, and her knives in particular felt incredibly heavy as they walked to the shrinechurch—as though they'd somehow absorbed all the blood they'd ever spilled. Rose smiled bitterly as she considered how fitting it was for her to bring them into a church dedicated to a corrupted god, especially if she meant to kill one of his followers.

"You ready?" murmured Dezel, glancing at Rose, and she nodded, somewhat more hesitantly than she would have liked. Her thoughts were with Sorey and Alisha and her family, and it probably showed. Nonetheless, she and Dezel took a breath together and pushed open the double doors. They had a mission to fulfill.

They took a moment to glance around the deserted main hall in search of potential threats, then made their swift and silent way to the back room. If Rose was right and Amethor was the killer, and if he had said he wanted to show her something, she had little doubt that he'd save the dirty work for her, but she couldn't be too careful.

As they neared the door, Dezel beckoned the breeze toward them to gauge the situation, and on it drifted the faint sound of a prayer: " _The earth cries out; the din of this modest land hast the power to expel the unclean and cleanse the defiled. O breath of life that dwells in all creatures, come forth; let me free thee from thy torment, and enclose thee in the purity of my light. Foul affliction, life as thy sustenance, begone!_ Let the gods give grace," he added, finishing his rites just as Rose pushed open the door.

"Ah, it's you," remarked Amethor, glancing up at them from the three figures lying at his feet. Thankfully, his latest victims all seemed to be alive, though from the looks of things, they wouldn't be for much longer. A young teenage boy, a middle-aged woman, and an elderly lady all lay bound and gagged on the ground—the boy struggling, the others deathly still but for the shallow rise and fall of their chests.

Amethor smiled at Rose, and she struggled not to shiver. "Be not alarmed, my child," he told her, spreading his arms in a gesture of welcome, as if initiating her into some twisted religion. "This is the divine decree of the seraphim, and I have made good on my word." He stepped aside, gesturing at an iris gem sitting at the base of the monument. (Good; everything was going according to plan.)

Dezel, however, apparently had a few bigger things on his mind than the Earthen Historia. "How _dare_ you!" he shot back forcefully, sinking fluidly into a combat stance, but Amethor only looked at him in cool bemusement. "Don't put this on us!" Maybe it was because he really _had_ used Rose to kill others before, but there seemed to be a desperate undercurrent in his voice, as if he said it as much to convince himself as Amethor.

This did not escape the priest's notice, and his sickeningly earnest smile widened slightly. "All with malevolence in their hearts must be purified," he explained, as calmly as if reading one of its innumerable passages. "This is not death, good seraph, but salvation."

"You call this salvation?" demanded Dezel, gesturing agitatedly to the three would-be victims; Rose set to work strategizing. As long as Amethor didn't call any reinforcements, she'd be able to slit their bonds, no problem; after that, she had only to kill Amethor, and all may yet be well. "This is massacre!"

Rather than respond to Dezel's accusation, Amethor instead shifted his icy dark gaze onto Rose. "I can see you have come prepared for your task," he told her, looking her methodically up and down. "That's to be expected, given the ring you bear. She brought us together as teacher and pupil, and this shall be your first lesson."

"What the hell are you talking about?" snapped Rose, drawing her knives. " _Who_ brought us together?" It didn't take a genius to figure he was talking about the seraph whose power Rose was borrowing, but she still would have liked to have a name to put to her enemy.

"Harsh words do not become a soul as pure as yours," returned Amethor, narrowing his eyes. "Everything comes at a price, and information is no exception. Plunge your purifying blade deep into each of their chests, and I shall explain." Taking a deep breath, Rose exchanged a guarded glance with Dezel… and approached the boy. Time to get to work.

He squeezed his eyes shut as she knelt next to him, his body stiffening automatically; clearly, he had given up on trying to escape, and instead lay there wishing—as Rose had done so often before—that his situation was a nightmare, and that if he stayed still enough, he could awaken to a better reality.

Smiling sadly down at him, Rose slid her knife under his ropes and sliced outward to free him: his eyes flew open as he felt the tension release, and as his body relaxed again, he almost drove his chest straight into her blade. She pulled it back before he could hurt himself, grinning down at him in sympathetic relief, but Amethor was considerably less pleased.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, striding toward her as she moved swiftly on to the other two: Rose nodded to Dezel, but he had already started flicking out his pendulums to hold him back. As Amethor struggled in vain against the much stronger Dezel's hold, Rose made quick work of the remaining ropes, and all three captives fled without so much as a look back.

"How can this be?" asked Amethor, his voice labored, and Rose and Dezel shared a faint smile as she turned to face them again. (Maybe she wouldn't be so much of a sinner if she didn't enjoy her line of work so much.) "How can you say that this isn't what the seraphim want? It was a seraph who showed me the way in my dreams, time and time again… that the world's salvation is my sworn duty!"

"Then maybe you should take a look at reality instead of dreaming all the time, huh," responded Rose, shifting her grip on her knives.

"Malevolence must be purified," protested Amethor, tugging against Dezel's grip, to no avail; his feet slipping on the stone floor, he sank to his knees, and stared up at Rose as she approached. "Is that not the most ancient of seraphic laws?" His voice had become low and rough like a bestial growl, fierce and almost threatening despite his prostrate position.

"Killing your fellow humans isn't the same as saving them," she returned, searching his gaze. There was no fear in his eyes, only frustration and a profound kind of confusion that ached at her soul. Amethor genuinely thought he was acting for the best; how could he have come to believe that…? "And they're not hellions, anyway. They're no more corrupt than you are."

But Amethor didn't seem to be listening; his eyes fixed themselves on her ring. "How did you come into possession of that ring?" he asked her mildly, examining it carefully. "Such intimacy with our seraphic guide and guardian should have made you our leader, not our enemy."

"What do you know about my ring?" asked Rose, narrowing her eyes.

Of course it would have been too simple for him to answer her; instead, he only smiled. "I'll tell you if you hunt down and sacrifice those lost lambs," responded Amethor, and Rose frowned. He hadn't bargained for his own freedom, as she'd expected; he was certainly a strange one.

"No deal," returned Rose flatly. No matter how crucial information about the ring may be, she certainly wasn't going to kill innocent civilians for it. Dezel shifted behind Amethor, pendulums tightening, and Rose glanced up at him to find him looking down at her with a clear question in his cloudy eyes: _do you want me to make him tell us?_

Rose shook her head, and Dezel looked away from her. They both knew that the knights would get wind of this before too long; there wasn't enough time for any kind of interrogation. They'd just have to figure it out later, on their own.

"I have nothing further to discuss with a woman who so staunchly refuses enlightenment," concluded Amethor, closing his eyes with an ironic sense of finality, but they opened again as soon as he felt the point of Rose's knife graze his chest: a perplexed frown flitted across his face as he took in the dagger, and she almost laughed. How could he _not_ have foreseen this?

"May these weary bones find peaceful rest," she murmured, and plunged her purifying blade deep into his chest: as she gave her legendary farewell, she felt her ring go cold, as if the illusion masking her appearance had faltered. In the same moment, she thought she saw a hint of recognition amid the confusion in Amethor's dark irises. He opened his mouth as if to say something—but then his eyes closed forever, and he was gone.

* * *

 _*long sigh* Okay, I think we're done with the religious shenanigans for now. Finally…_

 _ **alhelux:**_ _Thank you so much! I personally love world-building, myself, even if it's time-consuming and sometimes delays the actual writing of a chapter. I hope Berseria doesn't come along and overwrite all this, eheheh… *sweat drop*_

 _ **Linake11:**_ _The reason I included that is because he sings at the beginning of each of his YouTube videos "A Tale About Zestiria" and "Void Dark & Dezel: Looking Back". His voice isn't quite Dezel's, since he pitches Dezel's a tone or so lower, but it'll give you the gist of it. Anyway, thank you for all the compliments!_

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _I hope I don't end up killing you if a tiny amount of fluff like this is enough to set your heart aflutter, because once a ship sails, there's no going back!_

 _ **PhoenixTheCat:**_ _Actually, I've never seen/played Kingdom Hearts, unless you count watching my friends play it when I was like, twelve. It's nice that you can see parallels that aren't there, though, because that just makes the story more accessible._

 _ **CWolf2:**_ _Thank you! I intend to try, at the very least._


	35. Chapter 34: Dust and Secrets

If the Five Lords themselves had convened with the intention of giving Rose whatever her heart desired, she'd ask for sleep before she even thought of salvation. Given a little recovery, she could save the world easily enough with her friends.

It had been a week or so since they'd all escaped Pendrago, and Rose had yet to get a good night's rest. Amethor's stupid iris gem certainly didn't help, what with its little vignette of hellionized babies… but mostly, it was this damn pact ring. In fact, it was cold enough that it was beginning to hurt. More than once, Rose lay awake far into the night, clutching her finger, wondering if she ought to just take the ring off—or if she even _could_.

…But maybe this connection hurt the seraph, too, and that possibility was more than enough to convince her to leave it on. Besides, if the seraph turned up and Rose had taken the ring off so she didn't notice, she'd never forgive herself. Still, it didn't make those nights any shorter… and Dezel didn't seem to be sleeping either. In fact, by the time the party spent their last night with the Scattered Bones in the Gaferis Ruins, he seemed about as fatigued as Rose.

"It's almost dawn," she mumbled, softly enough that her voice didn't echo in the ruined room; Dezel didn't stir, but a slight catch in his breathing at the broken silence told her he was listening: an exhausted half-smile tugged at the corner of her mouth at the sign. "I know you're awake," she added. "Why are you awake?"

He let out a resigned sigh, muffled by his hat, and lifted it up to open one eye at her. "Why are _you_?" returned Dezel. "I can't sleep if my vessel is awake, can I…?" He trailed off, evidently unable to find a real excuse, and closed his eyes again to avoid looking at her.

Rose couldn't suppress a tired grin. "You are the _worst_ liar," she told him, stifling a quiet laugh that quickly became a wide yawn. "I think Sorey does a better job than you, actually. At least he has a script to stick to." She shook her head. "Honestly, how many times have I seen you sleeping while I'm on guard duty?"

Dezel snorted softly, turning his head to face her, and this time he opened both his eyes to look at her. Lightning shot through her, and she looked determinedly away; a blind stare shouldn't scorch her face like that. Either way, she was altogether unequipped to deal with his dryly asked question: "You watch me sleep?"

" _No_ ," hissed Rose, but felt herself flushing all the same. He couldn't see her, she reminded herself, but that didn't do anything to help. "I'm just saying, I know for a fact you _can_ sleep while I'm awake, even if you _don't_. Besides," she added, unable to help herself, "looking at you is still a lot more okay than sneaking inside you and taking over. Like somebody did to me."

Dezel scowled at her, but his expression seemed a lot more uncomfortable than angry; his lips might have formed 'sorry', but he didn't say the word aloud. "What do you want me to tell you?" he asked eventually, letting out a long sigh. "I don't have a reason, and neither do you."

"I have a reason," Rose corrected him irritably, holding up her hand to display her ring. A frown flickered across Dezel's face, but he said nothing. "No nightmares this time, but I just can't sleep for too long before something kind of… reaches inside me, I guess, and wakes me up. Like flipping a switch," she added, pursing her lips. "I can't figure out how to flip it back fast enough to get any real rest."

Dezel nodded in understanding, and though he didn't close his eyes, they fixed themselves on the ceiling for long enough that Rose's eyes slid shut as she wondered whether she should try to rest once more. When he spoke, it was in a soft and almost sheepish tone, as if hoping she wouldn't hear him: "Anything I can do?"

The question was so unexpected that Rose frowned, and she turned to open her eyes and stare at him, caught off-guard. Not to say that Dezel was heartless, but openly asking to help seemed… unlike him. "What are you staring at?" demanded Dezel defensively, shifting in place, though he still regarded the ceiling intently. "You're my vessel, so I'm asking you if I can help. Because if anything happens to you, it affects me too—that's all," he added, too quickly.

His words sounded like an afterthought, a hasty excuse, and Rose grinned at him knowingly; he didn't have to work half so hard to justify caring. "Is that so?" she teased. "Because you sounded pretty embarrassed about asking."

"I thought you'd take it the wrong way," growled Dezel. "And you did. You're so predictable." He rolled over to face away from her, and she took a moment to observe the contours of his still-bare back before she realized what she was doing and tore her eyes away. "Try to sleep. The sun will rise in a few hours, and then we'll have to say our goodbyes."

Rose bit her lip at the reminder. They'd agreed early on to drop the Scattered Bones off here; she'd found herself wanting to wander the world with them forever, just like the old days, but they couldn't really bring them along on such a perilous journey—especially since it had been hell to balance her interactions with the humans and the seraphim. This was the best option… though she wished they could have found somewhere less enclosed, and less musty.

Clearing her throat faintly to dispel some of the dust, Rose rolled over once to halve the distance between them. "After everything you've done to me," she told him pointedly, "I wouldn't mind if you thought about someone other than yourself for once. I guess that's just wishful thinking, though," she added before he could respond, flopping onto her back with a somewhat exaggerated sigh, and fell silent.

Dezel stiffened, but did not turn around, perhaps because she was closer now, and facing him. "I—that doesn't mean—" he began desperately, the winds kicking up abruptly in panic. "It's not just for me! I thought you…" Rose could suppress a laugh no longer at the force of his reaction, and Dezel made a sound low in his throat like a growl. "Never mind," he muttered. "Why do I even bother?"

Rose's giggle turned into a feeble cough as the breeze stirred up thicker dust, and Dezel rolled over to face her at last. "Rose," he told her, his teeth grit. "If you let yourself die of a cold before we even get to the dragon, I will follow you into hell and carry you out again just so I can throw you back myself."

Shaking her head, Rose struggled to catch her breath. "D-dust," she managed, and Dezel frowned slightly an instant before his eyes widened in understanding, and he made a conscious effort to still the winds. He opened his mouth as if to say he was sorry, but Rose pushed herself to her feet: the need for air outweighed apologies.

"Gonna get some fresh air," she told him hoarsely, and Dezel got to his feet beside her, stretching and cracking his stiff back. Rose smiled faintly; ordinarily, the lack of privacy might have annoyed her, but it was actually touching that Dezel didn't give going with her a second thought. Regardless, the watch was unfortunately human, so she'd have to tell him they were both leaving.

Rose approached Talfryn cautiously, glancing back at the sleeping Sorey and Alisha apprehensively. "I'm going out with Dezel. _Side_ ," she added hastily, her eyes widening as she realized her mistake in phrasing, and she cursed her lack of sleep. "Out _side_."

Thankfully, Talfryn wasn't awake enough to notice… or at the very least, not awake enough to tease her. "Sure," he yawned. "Okay. No problem. Have fun." He waved at the entrance vaguely, then rubbed his eyes. "I'm beat," he added. "Is the sun up yet?"

"S-soon," Rose reassured him weakly, her voice breaking with the desire to cough again; she didn't want to wake anyone. "Not that we can see it. Wake Felice or something if you're about to conk out," she added over her shoulder, hustling outside so she could cough in peace.

As soon as she had finished clearing out her lungs in the open air, Rose shivered. Forget all that nonsense about the darkest hour just before the dawn; the coldest rain fell right before sunrise. Even as the thought crossed her mind, she sighed; this sleep deprivation was making her wax poetic.

Or maybe that was just her little thing for Dezel, which—incidentally—was still _not okay_. Couldn't she have put figuring that out on hold till this was all over? This was the actual least opportune time to be in love. "Sorry," sighed Dezel, drawing her out of her thoughts. "I shouldn't have…"

"Hey, not your fault," Rose interrupted, shrugging. "I shouldn't have teased you like that, all right? We're even." She sighed, staring at the sky; after a week of sleeping about half as much as she was supposed to, she'd gotten used to not really thinking about cause and effect. "Next time, slap me if I say something stupid, okay?" she asked eventually, turning back to Dezel. "Maybe that'll wake me up a little."

He only snorted, crossing his arms. "I'm not going to slap you, Rose," he told her firmly, but half-smiled reminiscently a moment later. "Ask Alisha, or maybe Edna if you're desperate," he added, shrugging. "Only girls can hit other girls. That's just how the world works."

Rose grinned at him. "Says an assassin to another assassin," she pointed out, hugging her arms to herself. "I guess killing doesn't count, huh?" she added, and Dezel pursed his lips as if genuinely considering it. "We should stop sleeping more often," she added, laughing. "It leads to some… um, _interesting_ conversations."

Though Dezel scoffed, he seemed pleased at the idea nonetheless. "I'm told you can get the same results with alcohol," he remarked, and it took Rose a few seconds to realize the undercurrent of a suggestion in his words. She didn't realize she was smiling at him for several seconds, then shook herself out of her sleep-deprived stupor: something bugged her about his phrasing. What was it…?

Oh. "You're _told_?" asked Rose finally, standing on one hip. "You don't seem like the kind of guy to be, um…" She faltered, trailing off. She was pretty sure 'abstinent' was the right term, but she was just conscious enough to know that didn't sound like a good word to say when she could sense so much ambiguous tension and so many lowered inhibitions, if only because of the insomnia.

Dezel shifted in place uncomfortably. "I only tried it once," he told her, readjusting the brim of his hat. "Funny that one of my only clear memories is of something I don't remember at all. Lafarga insisted I find my limit before someone else found it for me," he explained. "I… don't remember much of that night. Haven't touched the stuff since." He paused, his next words a mumble as if he spoke to himself. "I don't like being out of control of myself."

"That makes two of us," joked Rose pointedly, and Dezel sighed heavily as if having been worried she'd say something like that, but didn't immediately leap to the defensive this time, nor did he apologize. Good; he was learning. The sooner they accepted that as a part of their past along the road to communication, the better; Rose bit her lip as she thought of her demand that he stand trial later. Did she have the heart to be the judge anymore…?

She realized, quite suddenly, that Dezel's every muscle was tense, and he seemed to be trying not to shiver. "A-are you cold?" she asked him apprehensively, guilt flooding her. He was always so sensitive to her needs, and she could never tell the first thing about what he wanted. As soon as she got some sleep, she'd have to learn to read him like the wind.

"If you'd gotten me a shirt like you _promised_ , I wouldn't be," Dezel told her, but though his voice could easily have been annoyed, his tone was as sportive as hers had been: Rose grinned at him. Finally, they were learning not to take genuine offense at the small stuff.

"A simple 'yes' would have worked," she told him, grinning. "Come on, let's go back before they start spreading rumors." Rumors may not live long in so small a group, but they'd still be tough to work through… especially given that her temper had risen to rival Dezel's over the last few days thanks to her lack of rest.

To her astonishment, Dezel actually laughed. "You may be Sorey's Squire, but you're not tied to any of them like I'm tied to you," he told her. "If we don't like what they're saying, we can leave, and they know it." He paused, a gentle breeze brushing up and down her body as though he looked at her carefully. "Are you seriously worried they'll talk anyway?"

"I thought _you_ would be," returned Rose, stung. "Aren't you the one who's living in denial?" she persisted, and Dezel shifted into an almost combative stance. "Didn't you freak out about five minutes ago just because of the implication that maybe you care about people other than yourself sometimes?"

Dezel glared at her, but there was something soft around the edges of his stare. "If I'm living in denial, then you _are_ denial," he shot back, jerking his head aside as if unable to look at her any longer—though she knew he couldn't see her to begin with. "Since you're my vessel."

Rose crossed her arms, frowning. "But you can't actually _live_ in me till our pact is… uh," she returned lamely, brought up short, and ducked her head, blushing slightly. Gods, how could she remember the word 'abstinent' and forget 'solidify' until it was too late to save face? It was only one more syllable…

Nonetheless, Dezel understood. "Point taken," he muttered, staring at the ground. "How's that ring treating you?" he added, raising his eyes to her hand and moving on from his concession at lightning speed: Rose marveled at how quickly he could change the subject when he needed to.

"Cold," she responded, realizing that she had been unconsciously holding her finger, and made an effort to let go. "I don't think there's anything that can really be done about it, though. The only time it ever felt any warmer was when I was using its powers, and I don't exactly have much cause to do that anymore."

Dezel rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Then we'll have to kill that seraph as soon as possible," he responded after a small pause. "So you don't have to wear the thing anymore." Rose smiled; he really was a lot more thoughtful than he cared to admit, if he was willing to kill their nemesis for the sake of her comfort in addition to his revenge.

Damn it; _revenge_. "Yeah, except didn't Zenrus say you shouldn't take your vengeance till the pact is settled?" returned Rose reluctantly. "I mean, I'd like to be alive to savor our victory, and if we turn into hellions, that'd be… less than possible."

"Right," responded Dezel, massaging his forehead in his hand. "I forgot about that. But the thing is, I don't think it's…" He hesitated, frowning at her, then shook his head. "No, never mind. That's stupid. Forget I said anything."

"I can't forget something you didn't actually say," retorted Rose, annoyed until she remembered suddenly that speaking of things left unsaid, she'd been sitting on that idea of being a Shepherd for around a month now… and she still had no idea how to make it happen. Maybe she should consult her seraph, since theoretically, he'd be her Prime Lord.

"Hey, Dezel," began Rose tentatively, before her usual reservations could get in the way, and he blinked at her; she didn't usually use his name if she wasn't annoyed with him. "Got room for one more secret in your head before we go back inside?"

Dezel raised an eyebrow in apparent surprise. "If you got yourself into another fling, I don't want to hear about it," he told her, his voice edged with an exaggerated sigh. "Other than that, yeah, I think I can handle whatever you throw at me. Shoot."

Rose's heart skipped a beat at the implication that he was jealous, but she swallowed her pulse and managed to scowl at him anyway. "You've been stalking me for years," she pointed out, tossing a playful glower in his direction. "If I told you I found another lover, you'd know I was lying."

"And here I was hoping _I'd_ get to point that out," responded Dezel, a sharp and sardonic smile tugging at his mouth, and Rose echoed the gesture automatically. So he'd been joking after all; it was always so hard to tell with him. "Just get to the point."

Taking a deep breath, Rose mulled over the ways that she could possibly suggest a shift in dynamic as drastic as this. Eventually, she settled on making it relevant to him first and foremost, since he paid more attention to his personal interest than anything else: "How's Prime Lordship sound to you?" she asked cautiously.

Dezel blinked in surprise. "You want to be a Shepherd?" he asked in disbelief, sounding more than a little suspicious. "Don't you think we should make sure our pact will hold up first, and _then_ figure out where to go from there? If you hellionize because our pact broke, you're going to be even harder to purify. And besides," he added, before Rose could say anything, "I won't forgive myself for as long as I live… which probably won't be more than a couple minutes after you fall, but still."

 _Ouch_. Humor couldn't get a lot blacker than that. "It was just an idea," replied Rose, her heart sinking. If Dezel wouldn't go for it, she'd have to find some other way of supporting Sorey. "I just figured it'd be better for more than one of us to have the power of purification, you know?" she continued. "Sorey's already at full capacity, and I have high enough resonance that I thought maybe I could pick up some slack." She shook her head, wandering back toward the entrance of the ruins. "Sorry. I'll keep my secrets to myself next time."

"What good would that do?" asked Dezel crossly. "Never thought you were forgetful enough that I'd have to teach you a lesson you taught me first. Besides, the others might raise hell, but I think it's a good idea," he told her, and Rose stopped short, turning back in shock. "Sure, there are a lot of variables, but we've worked with less before. If you think this is what's best, then I…" He hesitated, raising his eyes to her face with a determined effort. "I trust you."

Somehow, Rose got the feeling he'd never said those exact words to anyone else before, and they struck her with all the force of something deeper. "Dezel," she responded gratefully, but cut herself off. What could she tell him? The words _I love you too_ welled up in her throat, but she strangled them. That hadn't been what he'd said, and she'd rather not show her hand before the world was saved.

Dezel leveled his stare straight at her face, and her breath caught; she wondered whether he could hear the words she had not said. "I'll follow wherever you lead," he murmured. "Just don't bring me someplace stupid, because if anyone makes a joke about the blind leading the blind, I'm going to go back on my word and slap you anyway. Hard." He sighed, shaking his head. "Don't make me do that."

"Kinky," responded Rose before she could stop herself, though the word was thankfully obscured by a sudden yawn, and she swayed in place; Dezel's light fingers on the small of her back stabilized her, though she tensed at his unexpected touch. Relief flooded her as she realized that he hadn't understood her unfiltered word; she knew better than to think he could ignore it like this if he had.

Wordlessly, they descended quietly back into the thick and ancient air, Rose trailing her hand against the wall to support herself. What had been keeping her upright, anyway? Pure banter? But her increasingly fuzzier thoughts were cut off by a soft voice from inside: "Welcome back," remarked Felice; apparently, Talfryn hadn't been able to stay awake through the rest of his turn after all. "Have fun?"

"Wh-what did Talfryn tell you?" asked Rose, brought up short. She hadn't thought anything of it when he'd used the same phrase, but if they actually started thinking something was going on between them, instead of just teasing her for the hell of it now and again…

"That you were going outside with your boyfriend," responded Felice, raising her eyebrows, and Dezel turned to look accusatorily at Rose; she shot him a glare, trying to tell him it wasn't her fault they'd jumped to conclusions. "Why?"

"I'm gonna kill him," muttered Rose, her hands curling into fists, and Dezel crossed his arms next to her; she glanced over at him once more, gauging his response. He actually seemed more amused than anything, which would have been cause for surprise if Rose had enough room in her head for more than one emotion at a time.

"O-oh, was it supposed to be a secret?" asked Felice, wide-eyed, and raised her hand to her mouth as much to hide a small smile as to show her shock. "I'm sorry! I won't tell anyone."

Rose only shook her head slowly, too exhausted even to explain how wrong they were, and sank down onto her cot, pointedly avoiding looking at Dezel. But he sat down next to her, a respectful distance away; she could feel the air stir slightly, though he seemed to be making an effort not to let it get out of hand this time.

"If that's what they want to believe, you won't be able to prove anything," remarked Dezel quietly, though again, there was a small smile in his tone. "It's easier just to let them think what they want. Come tomorrow, it won't matter anyway," he added, and Rose smiled faintly at the truth of his words. The resonance barrier was hard enough to overcome without dealing with surreptitious glances full of meaning and subtle interrogation.

Maybe Dezel was right. The Scattered Bones could think whatever they wanted… and by the time Rose saw them again, with any luck, it would all be true. Curling up with a half-exasperated sigh, she closed her eyes in exhaustion; she only had another hour or two till daybreak. And, as much as she loved her family, she'd never been so glad at the prospects of saying goodbye.

* * *

 _*loooooooong sigh* Sorry for the hiatus, all! The semester was coming to an end, and you probably all know what final projects are like. I'll spare you the details, but hopefully I'll be able to quicken the pace somewhat instead of waiting a month between updates now… Your reviews may or may not have been the last little push that convinced me to finally get my ass in gear, so I owe everyone who left one a big collective thank-you._

 _ **Linake11:**_ _All separation was temporary, plus Dezel and Rose are still together, so everything's just fine!_

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _I'm going the route that most people go if they want to get the bad ending, haha. That is, if the game lets you do it before The Incident happens in canon, assume that this version of the party has already done it. That means that the iris gem they just got is the second-to-last one they need, they've already restored Lohgrin's blessing, et cetera._

 _ **CWolf2:**_ _Oh, that's good! Yeah, Amethor is pretty terrible… I loved writing him, though. Too bad Rose killed him so soon. Maybe I'll write some random oneshot about him someday; I'm a sucker for underdeveloped characters with potential._

 _ **Straya:**_ _Haha, yeah, I suppose it's the road and not the destination and all that with regard to ships. I just hope you like that road, because we're still gonna be on it for a while. Hopefully getting ever closer, but one never knows… Anyway, thank you so incredibly much for continuing to lend your artistic abilities to my story! Everyone check my profile to see the latest work of art!_

 _ **Thunder Explosion:**_ _Wow, thanks! High praise indeed. I hope I didn't ruin it somehow in the chapters between your review and the time you caught up!_

 _ **Sado Nishi:**_ _Somewhere along the line, I think your review got cut off or deleted… but I saw more than enough to warrant my thanks! As always, compliments with reference to characterization are always accepted with gratitude, and I especially appreciate that you like the humor I can't help but include. That's something of a relief, actually; sometimes I wonder if it's inappropriate for the situations they're in. Either way, thank you so much!_


	36. Chapter 35: Blind Faith

A week or two later—after traversing the longest bridge, the most slippery wasteland, the muddiest swamp, and the most depressing forest imaginable—they were _still_ one iris gem short.

Rose might have been bored along the way if she hadn't been so annoyed at absolutely everything. The ring hadn't started inducing nightmares again, thankfully, but that was about the only positive thing she could find about her situation. She still hadn't slept well since she'd put the stupid thing on, and she hadn't gotten any closer to figuring out where the other one was, other than 'not here'.

In fact, Rose had taken to talking as little as possible lately out of fear that she'd end up snapping at her companions, which of course hadn't really helped matters. She'd explained the situation to the best of her ability, but then they'd wanted to know why, and she couldn't explain or they'd insist she take the ring off—so she'd just said rather shortly that she was _fine_ , and that shut them up.

At the cost of their companionship, it seemed. Over the past several days, Sorey and Alisha only dared to look Rose's way when they thought she wasn't watching, and even the seraphim hadn't openly addressed her in days… except Dezel. Sure, they hadn't had any of their delightfully sleep-deprived conversations since that night at the Gaferis Ruins, but he still stayed close even when everyone else steered clear. That was enough to keep her sane.

…Until now, anyway. They'd scoured every inch of Lhitwerg Woods they could access, but there was still no priest in sight, and this had been the only lead they'd been able to find. Rose's heart almost stopped as a terrible possibility occurred to her too late, throbbing through her head like lightning, and she had to grit her teeth so as not to scream.

Had Amethor led her on? Had he just been buying time for the Lord of Calamity? Had Rose dragged the Shepherd along on some sort of wild goose chase? And _why,_ in the name of all Five Lords, hadn't she thought of that likelihood much sooner…? Dezel rested his hand on her shoulder; as she looked up at him haltingly, she realized they were both trembling slightly, and took a deep breath to try and relax.

"So, now what?" asked Edna, emerging from Sorey, and the other seraphim followed suit as she opened her umbrella and turned to face Rose. "You told us there'd be a priest here, because Father Murderer said so," she told her, not troubling to hide her accusatory tone. "Did you come up with a Plan B in case he was lying?"

Rose scowled. "No," she responded tersely, as calmly as she could while her nerves were so raw. (Trust Edna to pierce right to the heart of the matter without so much as a thought for her comfort.) "Amethor had every reason to trust me at the time," she explained, as much to convince herself as the others. "He even gave me one iris gem himself, so there's no reason he'd lie about the second. That priest _has_ to be around here somewhere."

Everyone shifted in place uncomfortably, but no one dared to contradict her, which made Rose angrier still. They were supposed to be friends, right? She may have warned them she wasn't going to be too talkative, but that hadn't been an invitation to ignore her altogether. What kind of friends could they be, if they were so afraid of offending her?

"I'm pretty sure we've checked every corner of this place for priests, so it can be assumed he's not here anymore," said Mikleo eventually, his voice edged with an exhausted sigh. "Any other ideas about where he would have gone?"

"I didn't notice any priests on the way here," mused Lailah, lifting a thoughtful hand to her chin. "The nearest settlement is…" She trailed off, frowning slightly, and Rose scowled at the resident know-it-all until she remembered she'd spent the past who knew how many years locked in a sanctuary in Ladylake—so she could be forgiven for not remembering everything about modern Rolancian geography.

"I guess it'd be too much to ask that you remember this place, Dezel," sighed Zaveid, glancing sideways at his fellow wind seraph. "I don't know if you're from around here or not, but this was about where we found you."

"Then why don't _you_ tell us where to go?" shot back Dezel irritably, crossing his arms and shifting his feet into a more steady stance as if prepared to fight. "You know a lot more about this place than I do."

Zaveid only shrugged, ignoring the barbs in his tone. "Figures," he sighed, shaking his head. "I did hear tell of a village founded here some time ago," he continued, crossing his arms thoughtfully. "Undine? Rondoline? Something like that. It was supposed to be a church-based project, so maybe our priest buddy is staying there."

Rose frowned faintly. A settlement? _Here_? The Sparrowfeathers had steered clear of Plitzerback Wetland for a long time, so she wasn't exactly up-to-date, but she could have sworn she hadn't heard of any settlements in this area lately. And in this day and age… "I've got a bad feeling about this," muttered Rose, images of the ruins of Marlind flashing through her head.

"Well, we all know what that means," mumbled Sorey, his eyes clouding, but said no more about her feelings. "We'd better get going if we want to get out of here before nightfall. Do you know where that village was, Zaveid…?"

But his Sub Lord only shook his head, letting out a long breath. "Sorry," he responded, and though his tone hadn't changed, his voice felt heavier. "The last time I came back here, it was just so I could take care of a corrupted acquaintance," he explained, leveling his gaze at the ground with unusual solemnity. "I didn't stick around long enough to visit."

Sorey nodded in understanding, but it was Dezel who broke the ensuing silence. "Zaveid and I can try reading the wind once we get out of this damn forest," he remarked. "It might take a while to find out, depending on how far away the place is, but we should be able to head in the right direction, at least."

"You can do that?" asked Rose, blinking at him. They hadn't ever really been _lost_ before, so she supposed there hadn't really been any reason for him to say so if he could, but… still, it seemed like the kind of thing they should have known before it became immediately relevant.

But Dezel just shrugged. "Only one way to find out," he replied, and Zaveid nodded and braved a smile. Rose rolled her eyes as Sorey and Alisha exchanged an exasperated glance; apparently, they were willing to stake the outcome of their quest on their shared abilities without any idea whether it was possible at all. (Maybe those two were more similar than they'd thought.)

"Well, we've got two able and willing wind seraphim," agreed Edna, spinning her parasol. "We may as well use them."

"Right," responded Sorey uncertainly, exchanging an apprehensive glance with Alisha—probably concerned about the morality of 'using' his seraphim—but nodded nonetheless. "Let's move."

* * *

The next couple days were something of a blur, given that all the scenery looked and felt much the same—hot and humid and sickly green. Even with Edna and Mikleo to fend off the mud and rain, they couldn't really do much about the persistent heat.

Rose hadn't noticed her state of perpetual perspiration half so much on the way _to_ the forest, but maybe that had been because she'd been so focused on getting to their destination. Now, their journey felt very much like pointless, almost sleepless slogging through marshland in search of a village that may or may not exist, navigating by the breeze alone.

By the time the winds finally led them to the settlement, as desolate as Rose had anticipated, she'd almost completely lost the ability to think straight. Ironically, that might have been the one thing keeping her sane, since she was reasonably sure that without the haze of exhaustion to numb her soul, she'd be much more exhausted and frustrated than she had been in a long time.

Consequently, sharp-eyed as she usually was, it was actually Alisha who first spotted a statue in a ruined alleyway, and the seraphim emerged to investigate. It was a work of art, out of place amid the grim scenery. Detailed. Lifelike. Far too much so.

Rose's eyes widened as she took in the stony visage of a priest, his eyes featureless and wide in terror, his carved teeth grit. He held up an iris gem in a petrified hand as if in the vain hopes that it could dispel some evil, and Rose had a sinking feeling that they hadn't seen the last of the Forton sisters after all.

As if the thought had summoned it, a thick, slick sound like something slithering through mud drew Rose's attention, and Rose jerked her head up as everyone around her exchanged anxious glances and settled into combat stances. There was no way they could fight in a space this enclosed, and Dezel couldn't lend his strength to any of them.

"Please don't find us," muttered Rose fiercely to herself, and sudden warmth sparked through the ring like an electric shock: she inhaled sharply, and Dezel glanced down at her in concern, but there was no time to reassure him. " _Please_ don't find us," she repeated, almost praying as she concentrated on the ring.

The world turned momentarily airless as a haze expanded haltingly to fill the alley, obscuring the exact shapes of everyone around Rose… but, though she could still see their smeared outlines, as in Pendrago, her companions evidently did not enjoy the same advantage.

Giving a collective gasp, they glanced around wildly, offering comments as indistinct as their forms; the clearest voice was Mikleo's. "Where is everyone?" he asked, alarmed. "I can't even see myself!" he added, looking down at his hands—his voice acquiring a panicky edge.

Rose couldn't discern Dezel's exact expression, but his voice was somewhere between annoyed and amused as he muttered, "What a nightmare."

"Are you using the ring again, Rose?" asked Lailah apprehensively, and Rose nodded before remembering she couldn't see her… but before she could do more than open her mouth to say yes, Zaveid spoke up, his tone as serious as any of them had ever heard it.

" _Shut up_!" he hissed urgently, sounding much more like Dezel than his usual flippant self, and the group quieted down—perhaps too late. The hellion slid to the entrance of the alleyway and paused, peering at them as if trying to see through the illusion: Rose's heart almost halted in her chest, and she found herself praying more fervently now. What if the magic faltered…?

Her friends' outlines shivered, as if in response to her doubt, and she forced herself to maintain her confidence. It hadn't failed her before, and it wouldn't fail her now. The haze stabilized with her thoughts—and after another breathless moment, the hellion turned away from them and moved on.

Several silent seconds came and went before any of them dared to draw breath again. Reluctantly, Rose tried consciously releasing the illusion, her lip twitching in the beginnings of a wince as the ring cooled right back down again. It would be too dangerous to fight a hellion like that if they couldn't even see one another.

"Oh, thank goodness," sighed Alisha, looking down at herself and smoothing out her tunic carefully—but thankfully didn't mention the ring or its power, though Rose spotted Lailah scrutinizing her carefully. "Now, are we going to purify her?"

"If we can," mumbled Sorey, exchanging a worried glance with his Prime Lord. Alisha hadn't been there to see that the other two snake-ladies hadn't gone quietly, and this one probably wouldn't be an exception. "Lailah, what can you tell us about her? She looks like Cardinal Forton's other sister."

"This is Euryale," explained Lailah hesitantly, so softly the others had to creep closer to hear. "Beyond that… I don't know. Medusa-type hellions tend to be women with high degrees of self-righteousness and hatred," she added. "So she's not _necessarily_ related, although—it wouldn't surprise me."

"Dezel," began Mikleo quietly, after a brief pause, "you're the only one of us who can really stand up to her, but you can't armatize with anyone anymore. We'll try to support you as best we can, but… we'll be counting on you."

"He can armatize with _me_ ," pointed out Rose, and everyone stared at her incredulously. "Maybe it's not a good idea to risk it right off the bat, but if push comes to shove, I know I can manage." Honestly, she was tired enough already that she probably wouldn't even notice. Hell, even mana toxicosis wasn't any worse than Plitzerback Wetland to begin with. As far as she was concerned, the universe could _bring it_.

Sorey shook his head in anxious exasperation, but didn't contradict her; instead, he only shifted his grip on the hilt in his hand. "Ready, everyone?" he asked, glancing at his friends, and received nods of confirmation all around—some more resolute than others.

As one, Dezel and Zaveid sent out a breeze to assess the situation; it returned almost immediately, apparently bearing news. "She hasn't turned back around yet," remarked Zaveid, as the air stilled around them. "Should be able to take her from behind without too much trouble." Edna threw him a dirty look, but there would be time to rebuke him for his word choice later; now was the time to act.

They emerged from the alley cautiously, took note of the hellion's location not too far away—and, at Sorey's signal, charged.

Their sneak attack went about as well as Rose could expect: surprisingly so… but, that said, she was _not_ well-equipped to fight. After a few weeks of comparatively little rest and comparatively many battles, her reflexes were suffering, and it was all she could do to dodge snake heads and jump over that lashing tail, let alone attack.

The best she could manage was the occasional Dream Slasher, leaping into the air and focusing her aggressive energy into the shape of spectral knives so she wouldn't have to throw her real ones away. Fortunately, five seraphim and two other humans did quite a bit to balance out the stage—but being unable to risk looking at her face meant that they had little choice but to be cautious.

The seraphim formed a pentagon around Euryale, each of them casting different spells, while Sorey and Alisha circled the hellion more closely, sword and spear dancing in their hands. The multicolored flashes of blades and artes and their various effects all blurred together in Rose's mind; she'd never felt more useless in a combat scenario.

She couldn't cast spells, but she'd be more of a liability than an asset if she got in close like Sorey and Alisha… unless she could somehow squeeze twenty-four hours' worth of sleep into the space of a single second. (Even Dezel's repeated, arte-augmented urges for her to concentrate couldn't do that.)

Resigning herself to acting as a distraction, Rose took to dodging strikes, drawing Euryale's attention away from her more useful comrades. Still, this one put up much more of a fight than either of her sisters; she didn't stay surrounded for long, slithering out of range with astonishing speed to swing her tail at Lailah in an attempt to break the circle of seraphim.

 **"Luzrov Rulay!"** exclaimed Sorey and Mikleo as one, making ready his bow as it sprang into their hands, but Zaveid got there first: his pendulums curled around Euryale's tail, and he pulled with all his considerable strength to restrain her, skidding slightly in the mud; Lailah finished her spell in the nick of time and darted away, and Alisha's spear glanced off the hellion's scaly armor as she stabbed downwards.

Euryale hissed, her living hair swiveling back to snap at Alisha, and the princess jumped backwards to avoid them. Rocks jutted up from the ground like jagged teeth to ripple under the hellion's body… and Dezel's sharp winds shot through the air, strengthening the armatized Sorey's arrow so that it took one of her serpentine heads clean off.

Shrieking in agony, Euryale whirled around to face him, smashing the stone growing all around her. Deflecting a stray rock flying at her face, Rose leapt over the hellion's tail, and only as an afterthought brought her knives down in an off-balance Lightning Tiger Blade.

She realized something was wrong even before she felt the pain of a snakebite shoot through her arm; her muscles spasmed and her fingers slackened, and she dropped her knife with a gasped curse. Damn it; how long had it been since any of their enemies had so much as _touched_ her? She must be slipping more than she thought if a stupid snake had sunk its teeth into her…

"Rose!" shouted Dezel, sprinting over to her side, but Euryale followed him; Alisha stabbed at her with a fearsome cry, and Lailah and Zaveid teamed up to block her path with a vortex of wind and fire. Sorey and Mikleo separated ( **"Hephsin Yulind!"** exclaimed the Shepherd and Edna immediately afterwards), and the water seraph set to work casting a healing arte.

Rose gripped her remaining knife more tightly than ever, her knuckles turning white out of fury. "I'm going to kill her," she muttered, glaring daggers at Euryale, and Dezel supported her by the shoulder as she swayed in place. "Nobody touches me. I'm going to kill her! Dezel, I can't _stand_ this anymore," she added, as Mikleo's purity healed the bite on her arm. "This fight is gonna take forever with only one armatus, and—"

"Look out, you two!" cried Lailah urgently, and Dezel threw Rose behind him effortlessly as Euryale turned on them, beams of blinding light searing the ground as she glared in their direction. Dezel ignored them, repelling her with his pendulums in conjunction with Mikleo's spontaneous waterfall.

Rose's arm tingled as the feeling returned to her fingers at last, and she eyed her knife on the ground some distance away. "Dezel, we have to armatize!" she exclaimed, rolling out of the way of another strike from her serpentine hair; Sorey, in conjunction with Edna, drove his gauntlet into Euryale's tail, and she screeched and whirled around to face them.

"It's too dangerous!" shot back Dezel, wrapping a pendulum around the snake head that had snapped at Rose; Zaveid followed suit from the opposite direction, holding her back as Alisha thrust at her exposed stomach.

"More dangerous than a giant snake lady that can turn us all to stone?!" screeched Rose, scrambling to pick up her knife. Thanks to a well-timed burst of flames from Lailah, she managed to leap back safely, tossing in another Dream Slasher for good measure. "If you want us to make it through this fight, you better help me!"

"Come on, Dezel, your vessel's asking you to get inside her!" yelled Zaveid, grinning maniacally, and withdrew his pendulums to cast a hasty Hell Gate; Mikleo picked up the slack in the meantime with a couple intertwined jets of water, but Rose was too busy scowling at Zaveid. (There was a time and a place for innuendo, and this was neither.) "Are you really gonna turn her down?"

"Shut _up_!" snarled Dezel; Rose opted to concentrate on the battle that mattered instead, and noted that Sorey's eyes were closed and his teeth were grit: his accuracy was suffering because of it. All dirty jokes aside, Zaveid was right for once; they needed Dezel's armatus if they wanted to end this quickly.

"I need you, Dezel," remarked Rose more quietly, panting, as she stumbled to a halt next to her seraph. Her muscles seemed molten from the fatigue that came with prolonged insomnia; she'd never been so ready for a fight to be over. "I didn't feel any different until after you left last time, and I need your strength now," she added, swallowing dryly. "Just… after it's over, catch me if I fall."

Dezel stared at her for a moment, and the battle seemed to vanish around them as their eyes locked… but their connection vanished as he bowed his head. Euryale slithered in a circle in Rose's peripheral vision, gaining momentum, but she didn't dare to look at her lest she turn to stone. "Now or never!" she exclaimed, both nervous and excited, as the hellion whipped her tail toward them; she already knew which it would be, and closed her eyes with a fierce grin.

 **"Lukeim Yurlin!"**

As her essence collided and combined with that of her seraph, Dezel's life force crashed over her like ocean waves, and Rose laughed aloud as it seemed to refill her own; even if she suffered for this later, it would be well worth it. At this point, she'd all but forgotten what it was like to fight at her full strength: in that moment, Rose wanted nothing more than to prove she deserved him.

The rest of the battle was just as much of a blur as it had been before, though perhaps for slightly different reasons. Now, Rose experienced it through a haze of aggressive euphoria instead of desperate exhaustion, allowing Dezel to guide her movements as she tapped into their shared pool of power. Though Dezel's influence had veiled Rose's sight, she _felt_ her way around the fight. It was exhilarating, in a word; she hadn't ever remembered feeling like this before, even armatized.

This was vastly different than vesselhood, realized Rose in the back of her mind, as she flipped gracefully backward in midair to dodge a clumsy strike; this was a combination not only of their strength, but of their very identities. So little remained between them that Rose had to be careful not to lose herself in him; it was far more difficult to keep secrets when they were collaborating so completely—but, she thought dimly, whatever she felt, he seemed to feel the same.

Maybe that was why all these formless thoughts and intense emotions were so overwhelming…

"That's enough!" called Sorey, his voice distant to her ears despite her sharpened senses, and she halted reluctantly. It would be so easy for them to strike the final blow; why was he hesitating? Something prodded at the edge of her tired mind, and she remembered with a jolt of shock and shame that Euryale was a hellion—so Sorey probably wanted to try purifying her.

 _Yeah, we'll see how well that works out_. Rose didn't hear the words, but she may as well have, so clear were Dezel's emotions inside her; what a stark and welcome contrast from the constant layers of secrecy that had separated them such a short time ago.

"I know now!" cackled Euryale, her breaths labored and her voice high and rasping. "I know how bottomless is human desire. You glorified me as a saint!" she continued, ranting on. "You pushed all of it on me! You did nothing to help. You let disease take the children, one by one!" She wailed in almost unearthly anguish, setting Rose's hair on end. "None of it! None of it was my fault!"

The wind must have needed its eyes checked, because unless Rose was much mistaken, she just… vanished. Zaveid called out, and Sorey shifted back next to them, but that was the only indication Rose had that her senses were not deceiving her as a pool of pure malevolence opened beneath Euryale and swallowed her up. (Talk about going straight to hell.)

"Dang… we couldn't purify her either," murmured Sorey, and—after another, tense pause—they all sheathed their weapons. _No surprise there_ , Rose wanted to say; but, unsurprisingly, Edna spoke up first.

"Not doing so hot, are we," she observed dryly, turning to face Rose. "Okay, Dezel, you can come out now." She felt his apprehension in her heart, and reassured him silently, encouraging him to leave her: after a last pause, he obeyed, and Rose braced herself for the worst.

…But, though she swayed slightly in place as control of her own body returned completely to her, she didn't feel any of the peculiar lightheaded weakness that had marked her previous armatization with Dezel. "You okay?" he asked her, his voice softer than usual in concern.

Frowning, Rose stared down at her hands, flexed her fingers, shifted in place, and finally stretched—but nothing happened. In fact, it felt as though their energies had balanced out enough that she even felt a little more awake than she had going into that fight. "Y-yeah," she told him finally, looking up in guarded relief. "I don't know _why_ , but… I'm fine."

Dezel opened his mouth, probably to ask something along the lines of _what_ , but Lailah paced forward to examine the two of them curiously. "It would seem your connection has stabilized," she observed, crossing her arms. "Even if it's still unofficial, your pact is at least mutual. At least, I'd guess so," she added thoughtfully.

" _How_?" demanded Rose, putting her hands on her hips, and exchanged a brief glance with Dezel. "He swore on vengeance, right? It's not like he's suddenly forgiven that seraph, and it's not like I've turned murderous or something. Well, no more murderous than usual, anyway," she amended.

Zaveid snorted disbelievingly, and all eyes turned to him. "You _sure_?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "You were a little scary in that last battle." To Rose's surprise, she spotted more than a few nods of agreement; she would have loved to argue, but even if Dezel hadn't seized control, she had about as much recollection of her actions as she'd had during her days in the Scattered Bones. (Oops.)

Dezel fortunately opted to ignore this comment, and cleared his throat slightly as if to draw their attention away from Rose; she gave him a somewhat wan smile of gratitude. "Does this mean I can actually live inside my vessel now?" he asked, addressing Lailah.

She hesitated, exchanging a brief and unreadable glance with Sorey before nodding slowly. "If the armatus works," she told him, "everything should be fine. Just as long as you don't try to control her," she added, narrowing her eyes. Lailah sounded _certain_ enough, thought Rose; she spoke so carefully only because of her clear disapproval.

As Dezel glanced over at her, Rose nodded as encouragingly as she could, and he returned the gesture before vanishing; his presence settled lightly into her core, and she gasped at the unexpected warmth—but it wasn't an unpleasant sensation. In fact, it felt… quite the opposite.

She actually braved a faint smile as butterflies fluttered to life in the pit of her stomach. Whether Dezel had awakened them by virtue of his presence, or they'd arisen simply because Rose had realized that he was residing inside her, they were eerily similar to the feeling she felt every time she looked at him.

Speaking of which, as Dezel emerged again, she realized with some confusion and a little disappointment that he had somehow acquired his usual shirt and jacket. "Welcome back," remarked Edna sardonically. "I see you've found the rest of yourself inside her. Is she any more comfortable than Sorey?"

Rose frowned in bewilderment until she realized this must be what 're-manifestation' meant. A seraph's appearance was apparently a part of themselves, as she recalled, so if Dezel had been missing some parts of his outfit, it made sense that he'd have to duck into his vessel to change.

Rose wasn't sure what to make of the idea that Dezel had basically just gotten dressed inside her… but fortunately, she didn't have too long to let it sink in. "Wait, so if you two are compatible now," began Mikleo, tilting his head, "what _did_ you swear on? I thought we were supposed to be looking for pact rings?"

Zaveid grinned reminiscently. "What indeed," he remarked, crossing his arms, and stared Dezel down with a mischievous scarlet gaze; Rose shot her seraph a quick look to find him rigid, but couldn't decipher his exact expression.

"It won't do any good to speculate," retorted Dezel, turning his blind glare around at the rest of their companions; they shifted in place, but said nothing—though Mikleo and Edna unexpectedly exchanged a glance. "The important thing is that she's not in danger anymore."

"And anyway," responded Zaveid, moving right along (evidently having found whatever reaction he'd been looking for), "we've got a Storyteller to meet, so we'd best head to Lohgrin."

"Yeah," agreed Rose, letting out a long breath. "It's about time we had a little talk with the old man. Maybe he'll be able to help figure out what the deal is with this pact," she added pointedly, trying to elbow Dezel… but he vanished to rest inside her before she could touch him.

Rose heaved a somewhat exaggerated sigh, kicking at the soft ground, and she could have sworn she heard him chuckle. Damn it; she felt like she'd barely gotten used to Dezel's constant presence beside her, and now she'd have to get used to his presence _in_ side her. Truth be told, she thought she preferred the former, if only so she could get at him if he was annoying her.

"One more thing before we go," sighed Lailah, and all eyes turned curiously back to her. "We have to find out how to take the last iris gem with us."

"R-right," responded Sorey, exhaling, and Rose's heart sank slightly at the realization that their trials were far from over… but all the same, she had the strangest urge to laugh. Defeating an especially dangerous hellion was one thing, but how were they supposed to pry a sphere away from a statue?

* * *

 _Oh man, my inspiration is all over the place these days. Ever since I found out I love Panic! at the Disco, all bets have been off. Anyhow, you have no idea how much of a relief it is to write Dezel and Rose in a normal context again after writing such a creepy oneshot… even if I did have to write a fight scene. I hope I didn't butcher it too badly…_

 _ **Arthur Moebius:**_ _I humbly direct you to the summary, in which [Rose, Dezel] is marked as a pairing. That should be enough of an answer for the time being…_

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _In all fairness, it was first thing in the morning when I received your review, so that worked out nicely!_

 _ **Sado Nishi:**_ _I don't even know how to handle compliments on a scale like this, so I guess I'll just say thank you! It's unbelievably awesome that you're even thinking about what-if scenarios *for*_ _a what-if scenario… and let's not forget that you somehow managed to find and soothe my most prominent insecurity about this fic—that nothing has been happening._

 _ **NaotoShirogane:**_ _*blushes* Wow, thanks! I'm so glad that chapter wasn't worthless after all, and it means a lot that you think my writing is good enough to want to emulate._

 _ **Falsetta-Arias:**_ _Thank you so much! I'm amazed that you have no major criticism over about 35 chapters, haha. I hope I can maintain that quality going forward!_


	37. Chapter 36: Hold On to Let Go

The journey to Lohgrin was a lot more pleasant than the journey to the last of the Earthen Historia—not least because this time, Rose knew exactly where they were going and why.

Using her affinity for earth to her advantage, Edna had managed to bend the petrified priest's fingers just enough for Sorey to safely retrieve the iris gem. Rose almost wished she hadn't, since the tale it told was about as tragic as could be expected of one of these visions: Heldalf's hellionization. She didn't feel too sorry for him, given that he'd murdered a couple hapless travelers in that chapter alone; it was just a sour note on which to end the out-of-order biography of the guy they'd already killed. But at least they'd found the last iris gem, right…?

Better still, to her surprise and immeasurable relief, Rose had finally started sleeping regularly again. Dezel's presence inside her seemed to mitigate the effects of the pact ring… at least as far as resting was concerned. He couldn't do anything about the cold, but that was secondary to sleeplessness as far as she was concerned. She'd take a frigid finger over insomnia to the point of insanity any day.

Similarly, much to everyone's initial alarm and confusion, she'd started talking and laughing again—perhaps even more so than usual—as soon as they left the abandoned village. Zaveid often half-jokingly speculated that her vastly improved mood was Dezel's doing, but even her annoyance in response seemed fleeting. At this point, Rose was just happy to be alive and intact.

…And, now that her brain had started functioning again, she realized that she could actually kill a couple dragons with one stone in Lohgrin. If they were going to talk to Mayvin about whatever it was he needed to show them, she could ask him how she should become a Shepherd. And about the pact in general, come to think of it. The Storyteller of Time should know all that, right?

By the time the group arrived in Lohgrin, a little less than a week later, Rose was fit as a fiddle and twice as stringy (as Brad often said). They'd been expecting to scour the tower top to bottom before they found Mayvin… but instead, they found him sitting on a low wall, pipe in mouth, as soon as they walked in.

Well, that was easier than expected. "I had a feeling you'd arrive soon, Shepherd," remarked Mayvin, removing his pipe from his mouth and blowing a perfect smoke ring as the seraphim emerged. Rose's breath caught as Dezel left her body; she still hadn't gotten used to that tingling emptiness. "It's good to see you."

Rose and Sorey exchanged a bewildered glance; hadn't he been practically yelling at them the last time they'd seen him? Or had that just been Zenrus? (That night was still a little hazy in Rose's mind.) "N-nice to see you too," he decided, after a brief pause as he gathered his thoughts. "We brought the Earthen Historia. Was there something you wanted to show us…?"

Mayvin nodded once. "First, tell me what you've pieced together," he told them somewhat imperiously, crossing his arms, and Rose resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was still of the humble opinion that he owed them an explanation, especially if he was going to criticize them like he had. How could he dodge it like this again?

But Sorey, evidently, bore no such grudge: "We know that Heldalf was stricken with a great deal of pain and hardship," he returned solemnly.

"It seems almost like… some sort of curse," agreed Alisha, her tone hushed as she folded her hands before her and stared thoughtfully at the ground. "From what I've seen, at least."

"I can see that," agreed Mikleo, raising a hand to his chin; though his voice was somewhat muffled behind his fingers, his words were at least clear enough to understand. "Bound to the curse that is eternal loneliness…" He trailed off, and an interminably long silence followed his words; the only indication Mayvin gave that he'd heard was a nod and a thoughtful hum as he puffed his pipe once more.

Finally, Rose cleared her throat. Now was as good a time as any to ask her questions, but she'd need to do it in private. "Hey, old man," she began tentatively, shooting a covert glance Dezel's direction; he nodded, evidently understanding her thoughts. "Can I ask you something? Alone?" Well, alone with her seraph, but still.

Mayvin turned his head to stare at her, narrowing his silver eyes as he looked her up and down appraisingly. "If you must," he responded eventually, his tone utterly unreadable, and got to his feet. "This way." And, without so much as a glance at any of the others, he turned away and headed through the market.

Rose frowned, more and more confused; his greeting had been more cordial than expected, albeit lukewarm, so why had his attitude shifted back to cold again? There was no time to think on this, however; Dezel prodded Rose's arm, and she hustled after Mayvin as he led them to the room in the back.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Mayvin crossed his arms and asked, "What can I do for you two?" His voice sounded as admonishing as if he'd already guessed what she was going to ask, and disapproved. Swallowing, Rose glanced over at Dezel, who gave her a single encouraging nod.

Taking a deep breath, Rose dared to glance up at Mayvin, but almost recoiled upon meeting his flinty eyes. Maybe it was best to start slowly: "Long story short, Dezel and I are bound by a pact based on an emotion instead of a Divine Artifact," began Rose uncertainly, unsure how much he already knew.

Mayvin nodded shortly. "Zenrus kept me informed," he remarked, and she frowned; hadn't he left Elysia before they'd had that conversation…? Seeing her confusion, he smiled very faintly, and Rose dared to relax slightly. "He sent me a letter," he explained, not unkindly. "Last I heard, your seraph swore on an emotion you didn't share, so your connection was one-sided. What changed?"

Thank goodness; that cut out a significant amount of floundering around in confusing exposition on Rose's part. "Lailah says our connection has stabilized," she told him, "and the armatus feels just like it's supposed to, even if it looks different now, so that must mean I share the emotion. The thing is, we still don't know what it is."

Dezel shot Rose a glance so swift she almost missed it, but his expression remained impassive enough that she could not discern its meaning. Meanwhile, to her astonishment, Mayvin chuckled. "The nature of the emotion involved doesn't matter, so long as it is shared between you," he told them. "Were you perhaps wondering if you needed to participate in some sort of ceremony to make your status official?"

Rose blinked a few times thoughtfully; honestly, that hadn't really crossed her mind. She'd been too caught up in all this Shepherd business to think of much else. "Can you make that happen?" asked Dezel, with surprising hesitation; Rose glanced up at him, but could not read his expression.

"There would be little point in that now," responded Mayvin evenly, shaking his head. "As far as I can tell, your bond is about as stable as it's going to get. Why don't you find the other pact ring?" he added, indicating Rose's finger. "If I guided you through the ritual now, the only point would be to ease your minds. The chances that it would actually change anything are slim. But, if you were to find yourself a physical focus first…"

"There'll be plenty of time to do that once we save the world," pointed out Dezel, almost interrupting Mayvin in his inexplicable impatience. "The Earthen Historia is more important right now. In the meantime, I need some sort of assurance that being my vessel isn't going to hurt Rose."

There was a brief and breathless pause as Mayvin weighed his options, taking his sweet time. However, when Dezel's blind gaze did not relent, he shifted in place and spoke; Rose raised her eyebrows in surprise. She'd never known anyone to be able to stare down the old man like that.

"So you want me to perform the ritual anyway," sighed Mayvin finally. "Figures. I'll teach the Shepherd the ritual to solidify your bond," he decided. "But you should still find the other ring as soon as possible. Emotions are fleeting, you know," he added. "You'd best hope you swore on a resilient one, young seraph. I'm sure Zenrus has already warned you of the consequences should that emotion falter."

Rose and Dezel exchanged a glance warily. Yes, Zenrus had warned them, but not letting a feeling fade away became much more difficult when they didn't know what emotion they'd sworn on.

"He did," responded Rose eventually, turning her eyes back to Mayvin as resolutely as possible. "No, wait!" she added, surprising herself with her own urgency as he rested his hand on the door handle; Mayvin paused, glancing back at her in guarded surprise. "I—I was actually going to ask you to make Dezel my Prime Lord so I can become a Shepherd," she told him, throwing caution to the winds.

The words were barely out of her mouth before Mayvin interrupted. " _What_?!" he exclaimed, almost roaring, and Rose flinched at the hostility in his tone. She wouldn't be surprised if Sorey and company had heard that yell all the way back out in the market…

Seeing her alarm, Mayvin took a deep breath; Rose had never seen him more agitated. "Initiating a transformation like that based on an _emotion_ is among the most perilous ideas I've ever heard," he continued, his voice low and dangerous, "and I've been around for a long time."

"Well, how is that any different from the pact we have now?" returned Dezel testily, and Rose nodded in agreement. "You just said our bond is as stable as it can be. What happened to _the chances that it would actually change anything are slim_ , huh?"

A muscle in Mayvin's jaw tensed visibly at the challenge in Dezel's words. "They _are_ ," he hissed, "but becoming a Shepherd is much more than acknowledging the ties between a seraph and his vessel! You're asking me to facilitate a ritual that will unite you in a pledge to eliminate malevolence at any cost—not unlike an oath."

"I… I know that," responded Rose, but it took a colossal effort for her to speak. No matter how unpredictably the old man had been acting lately, it seemed wrong to oppose him on a point about which he knew so much more than she ever could. "That's what I want."

Mayvin shook his head. "As of now, the only real danger is that the emotion between you will give out and corrupt one or both of you," he explained tensely, "but as a Shepherd and Prime Lord, the cost will be steeper still should it fail."

"I won't let it come to that," returned Dezel, putting his arm around Rose's shoulders, and she stiffened automatically before forcing herself to relax. (He may have started living inside her, but really, she'd never get used to his touch.) "You have my word as a seraph, for what it's worth."

"It's not your choice," snapped Mayvin, all effort at civility by now vanished. "A full-fledged hellionized Shepherd is no laughing matter, and there won't be a way out until you find a more tangible focus. Your pact will be no more breakable than it is now." Meaning, Rose supposed, that he considered this a deathtrap. "It's madness even to suggest such a thing!" he continued furiously.

"What other choice do we have?" shot back Dezel, his grip on Rose's shoulder tightening almost painfully, but she could say nothing. "We'll probably need more than one Shepherd to take down Maotelus, and you know it. How many other resonant humans do you know who are up to the task?"

"Are you strong enough to bear the burden of purification?" demanded Mayvin, his eyes burning into Dezel's; as much as she hated being ignored, Rose knew it wouldn't do anyone any favors to get too closely involved in an argument like this. That said, she couldn't let her seraph take all the heat for her…

"I can try," shot back Dezel, bristling. "I'll ask Lailah for tips, or something. I don't know how she does it, but it can't be that hard."

Overriding the instinct not to call attention to herself, Rose cleared her throat, trying in vain to defuse the situation by drawing their attention away from one another. "Z-Zenrus did say he has the potential," she put in, resenting her own timidity—an unwelcome contrast from her usual brashness. "Because of his blindness. Like… an oath."

After a long and disbelieving pause as Mayvin stared between the two of them, he finally shook his head. "I know better than to think you'll change your minds," he sighed, "but you must be aware that this means you will no longer be able to borrow Sorey's power or those of his seraphim, nor directly lend them yours."

"I—I know," responded Rose, swallowing. "But our domains will still overlap, so we should still be able to support one another, even if I won't have access to all his strength. Besides," she added, braving a smile, "Sorey has another Squire to help him out now. Just… don't tell them, all right?" she added, almost desperately. "You know them. They'll ask too many questions."

Mayvin shook his head again, but this time, the motion seemed more exasperated than genuinely angry. "If you're going to separate yourself from Sorey," he told her, giving a somewhat strangled sigh, "you'll need to pick a true name of your own for the second part of the ceremony."

Rose grinned. "Don't worry," she responded, glancing sideways at Dezel; her seraph looked quickly away from her as if unable to hold her gaze for longer than a few seconds… but she didn't want to get her hopes up about why not, so she returned her full attention to the old man. "I've got one all lined up."

Giving a long sigh, Mayvin finally opened the door, but hesitated before he walked back through. "Be careful, lass," he murmured, "and take good care of your comrades. Look after her," he added to Dezel, narrowing his eyes. "If you continue to consider your duty a privilege, it'll hurt you just as much as her if you fail."

Dezel and Rose both hesitated, exchanging an apprehensive glance at Mayvin's cryptic and ominous words… but finally, they nodded as one, and Dezel vanished into Rose once more as she followed the old man through the market to her friends. There was no turning back now.

* * *

Rose didn't know what she had been expecting to find behind the only locked door in Lohgrin, but a garden definitely wasn't it.

Though Alisha and Sorey had been engaged in some quiet conversation on the way up, a hush fell over them as they passed through the door, as though they had stepped into a sanctuary. The seraphim emerged to join the humans in staring in awe at half-wild flowers, glowing with color to offset the limitless dripping gray. (Really, this was the kind of flower Rose aspired to be: thriving despite persistent precipitation, offering what she could to those who needed it most.)

Her attention was quickly drawn away from the flowers, however, as her eyes snagged on a monolith towering at the end of the walkway, slick with mist. Had those swirls in the stone been carved, or were they naturally occurring? The closer they drew, and the harder Rose stared at its surface, the more the lines seemed to move slightly, like living things…

She could practically feel the power emanating from the monolith: so this was where Mayvin would 'activate' the Earthen Historia, whatever that meant. There was something so irresistibly ancient and traditional about this place that Rose could understand why the old man had wanted to perform the ritual here. Well, that and to avoid the nonplussed stares of the few remaining inhabitants of Lohgrin, she supposed.

"Shouldn't Sorey be the one to perform the ritual?" asked Alisha, finally daring to address Mayvin herself as they all came to a halt before the monolith. It was the first time she'd spoken to him the entire encounter, but Rose couldn't exactly blame her for holding her tongue. "She _is_ his other Squire, after all."

"The Storyteller of Time is equally as capable of performing rites like these," replied Mayvin smoothly, "and I doubt either Sorey or Lailah knows this particular ceremony. It's easier for me to do it myself than to teach it." He paused, stroking his goatee thoughtfully. "The Shepherd and his Prime Lord can take notes, if they wish."

"I thought sharing a focus was all there was to it," frowned Sorey, tearing his focus away from studying the monolith with obvious reluctance: Rose smiled. There went his ruin mania again. "Why do they need a ritual in the first place?"

"For now, this young lady and her seraph are relying on their own strength to maintain the bond, and their shared emotion is only the thing that connects them," responded Mayvin easily. "This ritual will make it so that the emotion itself is what supports the link, whatever it may be."

Rose and Dezel glanced at each other, and she was relieved to find him as confused and alarmed as she was; he hadn't mentioned that. Was that a white lie for their friends' benefit, or had he not told them everything…? "Don't interrupt me, no matter what happens," commanded Mayvin, and Rose knew she and Dezel were included in that order as his cool gaze swept over them all equally. "Understood?"

There were nods all around, some more hesitant than others, before Mayvin cleared his throat. "You two, face one another and join hands," he ordered, gesturing almost impatiently between Dezel and Rose, and both of them jumped… but there was no time to waste on embarrassment.

As soon as Rose began breathing again, Dezel stepped forward obediently and took both her hands in his roughly… but his touch was soft and warm, if a little shaky. Neither of them knew what to expect, after all—especially given Mayvin's warning not to interfere _no matter what happens_. With luck, he'd been talking about Rose's imminent Shepherdhood, but…

"I, the Storyteller of Time in the Age of Chaos," began Mayvin, "grant words to that which has no name. By the nature of thy bond must another verify it; the truth of thy unity shall I make clear to thee. Dost thou accept my aid?" Though his speech was impressive, Rose couldn't shake the feeling that it had been improvised for the purpose of their specific situation. (Lailah could take lessons from him.)

Rose and Dezel exchanged a glance, but she couldn't look up at him for more than a moment. It was the height difference, she told herself, making her neck hurt to look at him too long. "We do," they responded together, and Rose knew they were both trying not to think of wedding ceremonies.

"By the strength of thy hearts art thou connected, and so shall it be until their final beats," responded Mayvin: here was the real ritual, then. "Seraph of wind, here is thy vessel; her body is thine. Squire to the Shepherd, here is thy guardian; his power is thine. Before me let thy pact be forged; recite aloud thy names!"

 **"Lukeim Yurlin,"** murmured Dezel, as Rose mumbled, **"Wilkis Wilk."**

Lailah took a step forward in their peripheral vision, smiling in anticipation of the end of the ritual… but Mayvin raised his hand to stop her: she halted as much in surprise as in obedience, a confused frown flickering across her face. This must be the part when Rose became a Shepherd.

Her heart jumped in anticipation, or perhaps fear, and Dezel squeezed her hands comfortingly; strength and resolve flowed into her. It felt more like he provoked it within her own heart than like he had given her his own, however; he seemed as nervous as she was, as they took a deep breath together to prepare themselves. Just as she would become a Shepherd, he would become a Prime Lord; they'd never play quite the same roles again…

"Thy resolve is as strong as thy resonance, Squire," remarked Mayvin. "Thy desire to use thy purity for good burns bright within thee. Yet to fan such a flame is to be consumed by it. Is this understood?"

Rose braved a small smile. "It is," she told Mayvin, as confidently as she could, and even turned her head to face him. Even as she took charge of her own destiny, she could see Lailah's eyes widen in horror, and Zaveid grit his teeth, but neither of them dared to interrupt the ritual after the old man's warning.

"Even knowing this, wilt thou still take up the task of a Shepherd in thine own right, and be a Squire no more?" asked Mayvin, his voice as steady as ever.

Alisha gasped as if in pain, but it was Sorey who spoke first. "Wh-what?!" he began, incredulous and alarmed, but his voice remained hushed out of respect for the ritual; he stared at Mayvin pleadingly, imploring him silently to stop, but the old man kept his eyes fixed on Rose.

"Oh no," groaned Mikleo, his voice muffled as he hid his face in his hands; Rose's eyes slid briefly over to Edna to find her eyebrows raised in a gesture as close to surprise as she had ever seen, though her exact opinion was veiled as always.

It didn't matter what the others thought, she forced herself to think, steeling herself. This was the decision she'd made, and she'd made it for the best: Dezel would stand with her. "I _will_ ," returned Rose as forcefully as she could, and kept her eyes fixed on Dezel's face, unconsciously memorizing his expression.

"And thou, her seraph," prompted Mayvin, turning to Dezel, "wilt thou follow as thy vessel's Prime Lord, and wield her as thy blade to cleave calamity?" Rose felt the strangest urge to smile as she recalled that Dezel had called her his 'instrument of justice' so long ago, on that night branded forever in her memory—the night she finally grasped the truth. How odd that she should come to welcome such a reality after rejecting it so vehemently…

Dezel grinned, his smile disarmingly genuine. "I will," he responded firmly, squeezing Rose's hands again unexpectedly, and her breath caught again.

Mayvin closed his eyes, raising his hands. "O ye human of fleeting life; o seraph born of the limitless sky—here let one pact fall and another take root, that a second Shepherd may be born!" he announced. "Thy souls are bound in holy light; let them blaze forth as one. Shouldst thou accept this burden, recite aloud thy names!"

 **"Lukeim Yurlin!"** exclaimed Dezel, as Rose cried, **"Wilkis** _ **Isylvia**_ **!"**

Sparking to life through the connection of their hands, pure power shot up Rose's arm, and she gasped in shock: an intricate seal of green light formed over her head, sliding down to surround her body and encircle her with winds. It took her breath away, quite literally, and she barely heard Mayvin's closing: "It is done. Go forth in peace."

Rose closed her eyes as another surge of energy washed over her, this time emerging from everywhere and fading into nowhere. It pulsed through her veins and throbbed through her head, making her half-pleasantly dizzy in a thankfully hollow echo of her first experience with the altered armatus.

As she struggled to shift her focus back to her physical senses, she found herself clinging to Dezel's hands tightly for support, feeling him do the same to her; she only realized she'd closed her eyes once she opened them again to glance around. To her shock and dismay, she realized that energy must have come from Sorey and his seraphim, as all of them seemed… different, somehow. Weaker, perhaps.

"What…" began Sorey, sounding disoriented, and staggered.

Supporting his Shepherd with some difficulty, Mikleo took it upon himself to finish Sorey's sentence. "What have you _done_?" he demanded, directing his words at Rose somewhat more accusatorily than his vessel had spoken.

Reluctantly letting go of Dezel's hands, Rose turned towards him, but was not given a chance to try and formulate a response. "If this is what you believe is best," murmured Lailah, her head bowed in sorrow and her voice strained to the point of breaking, "then… I suppose…"

But Zaveid interrupted almost before she trailed off. "To hell with that," he growled, taking a confrontational step forward with clenched fists (trembling slightly, as much from that peculiar weakness as from emotion), and Dezel automatically shifted his feet into a combat stance behind Rose. "Why didn't you _tell_ us?!"

"I didn't think you'd let me do it!" responded Rose, stung, and took a deep breath in preparation to explain the circumstances… but Edna cut her off before she could say more.

"You're probably right," she agreed, narrowing her eyes as she shouldered her parasol. Unable to gauge her emotions from her tone, as usual, Rose allowed herself to think that maybe she had at least _one_ ally besides Dezel—but that hope was crushed as Edna continued, "Because that was stupid."

"No, it's not!" shot back Rose, more and more defensive as her people-reading skills continued to fail her. More aggravatingly still, why wouldn't they let her _explain_? "Am I the only one who thinks maybe, just maybe, we'll need more than one Shepherd to quell this dumb dragon?!" she continued, almost yelling. If that was what it would take for her to be heard, she'd raise her voice so that Maotelus himself could hear her.

"Last I looked, we couldn't even stand against its domain," agreed Dezel sharply, crossing his arms and glaring around at their friends as if daring them to raise further objections. "Rose is right. As usual. Deal with it."

"Even so, there are probably a ton of other ways we could have handled this!" snapped Mikleo, his staff forming in his fist just so he could stab the tip into the stone with a resounding _click_. Rose glanced over at Dezel, exasperated despite herself; in some ways, Mikleo was right. Being pedantic about her rightness, or lack thereof, would hardly help matters.

"No, lad," remarked Mayvin, shaking his head, and all eyes turned to him, a few mouths agape in shock. "Even Sorey's power as a Shepherd may not be enough to purify a dragon of that immense size and strength. And, while I can't speak for her execution," he added, glancing over at Rose disapprovingly, "her motivations, and even her analysis of the situation, were correct."

"Yeah," put in Rose, trying not to sound either relieved or triumphant at the old man's unexpected support. "If I have the ability to be a Shepherd, I'd like to do it, and ease Sorey's burden a little. Besides," she added, as playfully as she dared, "Alisha is more than enough for him to handle as a Squire."

Alisha gave her an extremely strained smile, but her countenance fell still further as she and Mikleo rested a hand on each of their Shepherd's shoulders. Sorey still seemed to be in shock; as if the recognition had triggered something, Rose swayed in place, and Dezel rested his hand on her back.

"I—I'm fine," Rose told him, as he opened his mouth to ask. "Just a bit… lightheaded. Not as bad as our first new armatization," she clarified, leaning her head against his chest despite herself. Said chest wasn't bare anymore, damn it; but his jacket _did_ make a better pillow, and he did put his arm around her shoulders.

"Sorey slept for three days straight after becoming a Shepherd," murmured Lailah, her voice undeniably anxious as she hovered some distance away. Bless her heart; despite her dismay and disapproval, she could still find it in her to worry for her sake, if only a little.

Mayvin chuckled, but there was a somewhat dark edge to his laugh. "Rose is accustomed to Dezel's power after being his vessel for so many years, even if not officially," he explained. "That said, she's never felt that connection this intimately, so it may still take a little getting used to."

Rose braced herself for Zaveid's inevitable joke, but it never came; she thought for a moment that he must be much angrier than she thought if he wasn't even bothering to make another of his implications… but then she realized that even with his arm around her shoulder, Dezel had never really stood down, and that he was glaring daggers at Zaveid to keep him quiet.

"Didn't we have some Earthen Historia to investigate?" prompted Edna, with an almost bored sigh, when no one said anything further; Rose's eyes lingered on Sorey, seeking his forgiveness, but that would have to wait. "I assume it has something to do with this monolith, or you wouldn't have made us walk all this way."

Before Rose could point out that _she_ hadn't had to walk anywhere, Mayvin inclined his head by way of affirmative. "To most people, this monument is nothing more than a lump of rock," he explained. "However, the Storyteller of Time can harness its true capabilities."

"Yeah, about that… what _is_ a Storyteller of Time, anyway?" asked Rose, rubbing the back of her head awkwardly as everyone turned to face her. "Hey, it's okay if you don't want to tell me!" she added, choosing not to mention that most of them were probably about as curious as she was. The humans must be, anyway. "It's just that nobody ever told me what it _meant_ , that's all."

"The one who passes stories to future generations," responded Mayvin promptly, crossing his arms. "Stories of humans, seraphim, hellions, Shepherds, the Lord of Calamity. It is my clan to whom that fate has fallen." Rose grinned despite herself; how often did she get a straight answer immediately after she asked the question? This was worth a celebration in her book.

"A storyteller is meant to be a dispassionate observer," added Mayvin. "He must not interfere in world events. But I am prepared to accept the consequences." With the last few words, he reached into his parka pocket and pulled out… an iris gem.

"Is that an Earthen Historia?" asked Sorey, his eyes widening as he peered closely at the sphere. Rose raised an eyebrow; was his sight going again? That was _obviously_ an iris gem. Then again, maybe the question had been rhetorical. Yeah, she'd go with that, if only to help herself sleep at night.

"There are more of them?" added Mikleo, the barest hint of annoyance in his voice. Rose understood where he was coming from; they'd been putting their all into gathering these stupid things for longer than they'd even known what they were for, watching their every horrifying vignette. If there were still more they hadn't found…

"The others were fine," explained Mayvin, "but this one had to be shielded from the eyes of men. So I kept it for myself." Rose wanted to point out that he was a man too, but she didn't get the chance. That was probably for the best; they'd all ticked Mayvin off enough without mentioning loopholes.

"Then this must be…" began Lailah softly.

"Yes," responded Mayvin simply. "This is a record of the Dawn of Chaos." He glanced around the group as if searching for something, and found it in Sorey's dull eyes. "Come," he told them all, his tone softening a little. "Experience the truth of the dawning of this age. Perceive the light. Perceive the darkness."

Without so much as waiting for a response, he jerked his head toward the monument. "Place your hands upon the monolith," he commanded, and though there was a tiny hesitation, they all did so. Dezel and Rose's fingers overlapped slightly, but she refused to be the first to acknowledge it, and he didn't move his either. Oh well; there were worse fates.

"Then, close your eyes," came Mayvin's voice, and Rose obeyed. Though she was greeted at first by familiar darkness… but then the world went white around her, and she nearly cried out, almost drowning out a string of words in the ancient tongue. Dezel's fingers inched toward hers, but all sensation stopped in an instant, even Rose's rapidly pounding heart. She couldn't refuse to go to the light when it was all around her; was this what death was like?

But Mayvin's voice echoed in her head, a tie to the earth she had not left after all. "Do not ponder the answer for now," he murmured, and Rose knew with inexplicable certainty that the others could hear it too. She was not alone, she thought, and relaxed slightly. "Simply feel. Understand?"

Rose tried to nod, but nothing happened, so she settled for mustering all her remaining resolution instead. If feeling without thinking was what had gotten them into this mess, she thought wryly, then maybe it could get them out of it, too.

* * *

 _A quickish update, just like the old days! Chapter title totally not based on a song included in some Dezerose fanart by Maotelus ("Lean On"). Definitely not. By the by, the word 'monolith' has forever been ruined since my summer science fiction class forced me to watch "2001: A Space Odyssey". Oh and well.  
_

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _That is 100% exactly how they're acting! And yeah, I'd say we're about… 2/3 done? Maybe a little more than that? There's more to this tale than you might think, and there are still quite a few issues to straighten out, even if the iris gems aren't one of them anymore. Still, all stories must end someday, if only because I can't *write* forever…_

 _ **linake11:**_ _This is actually in response to your reviews of "For the Love of Wildflowers" and "incubus": Thank you so much! Specifically, it means a lot that you're the first review on the latter story. (Don't think I'll be adding anything to that one, but your interest is flattering.) As for your response to Lunarre's tale, I'm especially happy that I could inspire you to draw something, if only a little! The thing is, external links don't show up, so I actually don't have access to your work. Try adding some spaces at random intervals in the link you tried to send, because I'd love to see that!_


	38. Chapter 37: Spectrum

White faded back into darkness, and Rose's senses abruptly started functioning again—more vivid than before, amplified as in dreams. Her ring felt as cold as ever, but that had become normal. More importantly, she became conscious of soft earth beneath her feet, though she thought she hadn't moved from the cobblestone path. What the hell kind of vision was this…?

It took a moment before she dared to open her eyes a crack—and instantly, they flew wide in shock. Apparently, the final iris gem had brought them into a far more immersive experience than all the others; she stood in a field by a cliffside, dull yellow flowers beneath her feet (not unlike some of those in the garden she'd left behind). And, perhaps most importantly, _it wasn't raining_.

Hallelujah! Blue skies! Rose rejoiced in the sudden sunshine, breathing in the sweet warm air of early summer. Oh, how she missed this…! But her enthusiasm was short-lived as she realized that even without clouds, a strange dull veil seemed to have been thrown over everything except herself and her allies. Everything around them, from the sky to the grass to the trees, held a sepia tinge like an aged book.

More oddly still, they clearly hadn't moved, judging from their positioning; they were all in the same places they'd been back in Lohgrin, reaching out as if to touch an invisible monolith. "What happened?" exclaimed Sorey finally, staring around at their unfamiliar environment, and withdrew his hand cautiously from the empty space before him: when nothing terrible happened, the others did the same.

Rose found herself trembling in her boots, her head spinning again—this time for another reason. She told herself that her heart was only beating so fast out of shock at being plunged into a new environment, but deep down, she knew it was _fear_. How were they going to get out of here, wherever 'here' was? They'd never experienced anything like this before with any of the other iris gems…

"Where _is_ this?" asked Alisha, glancing around in wary interest. "I've never seen this place before." Wherever they were, their surroundings were only a dream, a hallucination. This did not make Rose feel any better; if anything, it made her feel worse as her mind jumped into overdrive just like her heart. Nothing around her, not the sunlight on her skin or the breeze on her face… _nothing_ was real.

Except Dezel, slipping his hand suddenly into hers; when Rose jumped and gasped, startled, his fingers twitched as though he meant to snatch his hand back—but, recovering swiftly from her shock, she clung to him shakily for dear life. She focused her mind with difficulty on taking in the sensations of his surprisingly soft skin on hers, as well as the tough leather glove that partially covered it. This was real. _He_ was real. That was enough.

"We're experiencing the Dawn of Chaos," mused Mikleo, as Rose's fingers occupied themselves twisting a loose thread on Dezel's glove, "so I suppose this would be…" Rose took a deep breath. This was a vision, nothing more. _Simply feel_ , Mayvin had told them. Well, she _was_ feeling—faint and vaguely queasy. She'd never wanted to go home more in her life.

"Camlann, the Origin Village!" exclaimed Sorey, and though his voice was far more surprised than excited, Rose couldn't understand how he could just slip so seamlessly into the past. Maybe he was just more receptive to learning than she was, but as far as Rose was concerned, Heldalf was dead. There was no reason for them to be here, meddling in his history…

"Well," remarked Zaveid, straightening up from a crouch, "might as well go on." His expression was impassive as he faced Lailah, but his voice sounded resigned, heavy. Rose raised her eyebrows, recalling the accusations he had leveled at her what seemed like so long ago. This situation, then, was what he'd been talking about.

"Undisagreed," responded Edna matter-of-factly, shifting her weight, and Rose bit her lip. None of them had so much as looked at her since they'd arrived. She'd never liked the silent treatment to begin with, and for everyone except Dezel to turn their backs on her like this—well, it was more than she could stand. Especially if they were going to be exploring this place together.

"Can we talk…?" asked Rose, surprised as she heard herself speak; she hadn't intended to say anything aloud. At least they could hear her, given that they turned to face her; she took a deep breath. "I'm not going to apologize," she explained, as calmly as she could while her pulse was still pounding; she was dimly conscious that Dezel had not let go of her hand, but that didn't matter right now. "I just want to know why you're so angry."

"I'm not angry," replied Sorey, with the immediacy that comes only with truth; Rose's eyes widened. "I just wish you'd, you know, _talked_ to us first," he added in a mumble, his gaze dull—full of hurt and betrayal as he moved his eyes up to her face with an obvious effort. "Don't you trust us enough to think we would have listened to you?"

"Besides, I thought you had issues with keeping secrets," muttered Zaveid, as Rose grimaced. "You were fit to be tied after you found out Dezel here didn't talk to you about what he'd been doing behind your back. Think we've earned the right to be a little pissed off, since you just turned around and did the same thing."

Rose flinched; she hadn't thought of it like that. _Why_ hadn't she thought of it like that? "I might have suggested this as a good solution later," put in Lailah quietly, her voice soft as if in grief. "But for you to assume the role of a Shepherd and Prime Lord based on a pact held up by an emotion… it's dangerous. If you don't know what it is, you can't make sure you hold onto it, can you?"

"If that feeling fails, it'll turn you both into super-powerful hellions, and the world will suffer for it," agreed Edna, narrowing her eyes, and twirled her parasol aggressively on her shoulder. "You two goofed. Big-time."

Flushing, Rose opened her mouth to protest that Mayvin had said the nature of the emotion didn't matter as long as it was strong enough… but Zaveid spoke up unexpectedly in their defense. " _That's_ not going to be an issue," he countered, and everyone turned to stare at him. Zaveid stared back, raising his eyebrows, and Rose could have sworn he was almost smiling. Whose side was he on, anyway?

There was a pause as though he was waiting for someone to say something, but they all just stared at him blankly. "Sheesh, you guys are even slower than I thought," he continued eventually, shaking his head. "You two included," he added, nodding to Dezel and Rose. "But that's your air to clear, not mine, so the rest of you are just going to have to trust my word in the meantime."

"Since when are _you_ the feelings expert?" demanded Edna, folding her umbrella, evidently with the express purpose of jabbing it at Zaveid. Rose narrowed her eyes, but knew better than to pry. _That's your air to clear_ , he'd said; that was about as close to an end-of-discussion as he ever gave.

Lailah shook her head wearily as Edna finally found her mark; Zaveid yelped, scrambling backward. "Really, everyone, we can always discuss this later," she sighed. "We shouldn't force Mayvin to hold us here any longer than necessary. It takes tremendous power to activate the entire Earthen Historia."

"R-right," responded Rose awkwardly. Far be it from her to put any kind of strain on the old man. "Let's go, then?" Further closure would have to wait, she supposed, as they all started walking without further ado. Where were they supposed to go…?

No instinct told them to head for the village in the nearby valley—if you could call a collection of a few huts and houses a 'village', anyway—but that was where their feet took them nonetheless. Brad had said if he ever settled down, he'd want to live in a place just like this. Rose was inclined to agree; the place looked like her idea of home. Except…

"Pretty big crowd here," remarked Rose, as they set foot inside the tiny town square. Tense, too: a few Rolancian soldiers stood guard around an all too familiar face in an equally familiar fur-lined coat, facing off against a few civilians. Zaveid leaned against a house to observe the scene, and Rose reached out to touch a post with her free hand. How could they be solid in a memory…?

As her fingers brushed against the illusionary structure, heat sparked suddenly through the ring, and she inhaled sharply. A ripple seemed to emanate outwards, disrupting the vision briefly; for a moment, she felt the monolith on her hand and stone beneath her feet and misty rain on her skin.

But nobody else even seemed to notice—not the sepia people, nor her fully colored comrades. The message, wordless as it was, seemed clear to Rose: she'd better not touch anything here. Within a vision like this, the power of illusion was likely a dangerous one—so, to keep both her hands occupied, she hugged Dezel's arm tightly (pleasantly surprised when he did not throw her off).

"General, this is absurd!" exclaimed one of the civilians angrily, shifting in place, and Rose narrowed her eyes. Something about him seemed irrepressibly familiar, even if she couldn't put her finger on it. Dirty-blonde hair, tenor voice, slim physique, average stature… handsome, yes, but unremarkable. Where had she seen him before? "How long must we keep living like this?!"

Having been ignoring the villagers in favor of scanning the cliffs, Heldalf finally turned to face him fully. "I am protecting you from the invasion by the forces of Hyland," he declared. "I'd expect you to be more grateful, Shepherd."

"Huh?!" exclaimed Sorey, exchanging a glance with Mikleo. "This guy's the previous Shepherd?!" Rose shot a glance at Lailah, who was staring at the ground intently, as if blocking out all that was happening around her; Zaveid's gaze hardened, and he stared at the ground.

The young woman standing next to him, carrying an infant, spoke up next. "You have occupied our village for half a year now!" she exclaimed, more angrily than Rose expected for such a small, slender, and modestly dressed lady. In a word, she seemed _demure_ —too much so to be shouting like this. "This isn't protection; it's house arrest!"

"Not to mention," yelled another villager, "the Kingdom of Hyland is only acting against us because Rolance moved their army here in the first place!" As the man spoke, the Shepherd took one too many steps forward, and the Rolancian soldiers poised their spears to strike; he assumed a defensive stance before the young mother, making no further moves.

"The strategic importance of this location cannot be overlooked just because the Shepherd founded a village here," explained Heldalf imperiously, and Rose glared at him. "You can trust Hyland would say the same."

"What, so it was inevitable?" snapped the Shepherd, but stood down; the soldiers did not return the favor, keeping their weapons at the ready.

"When once considers the rise of the Hyland Valkyries, yes," returned Heldalf. The Shepherd turned his face briefly aside, as though the sight of the general was disgusting, and Rose peered at his face as she finally caught a glimpse of it. No; she'd never seen him before. So why did he look so familiar…?

"I've had enough," growled the Shepherd, but there was no real threat in his words; he sounded more frustrated than anything else, the edge to his voice dull from weariness. This was the tone of a defeated and choiceless man forced into submission. "Just leave us."

To Rose's surprise, Heldalf turned and departed, albeit without so much as a bow; his soldiers followed, only reluctantly putting up their weapons. "Michael!" exclaimed a young man, before the crowd could clear. "Are you really okay with this? Those bastards are treating Lord Maotelus's shrine as their own fortress! How much longer must they blaspheme the seraphim?!"

"Brother," began the young woman, creeping cautiously forward to stand beside Michael as he bowed his head. Rose raised her eyebrows; _brother_? She'd assumed them to be husband and wife way back in the rest of the Earthen Historia…

"It's okay, Muse," he responded, gazing intently into her eyes, and rested a hand on her shoulder. Rose narrowed her eyes; something seemed a little _off_ about their familiarity, but… she'd really rather not think about that. "He's right that Camlann happens to be a strategically crucial location, given that we're here along the northern border," continued Michael, withdrawing his hand from his… sister's… shoulder as he stared back at the retreating troops. "An army that controls this territory can send troops to the enemy's capital at will. Their interest in our land is sad, but understandable."

"Do you really trust the words of that tyrant?!" demanded the man whom had spoken earlier, gesticulating angrily.

"They will do as they will," returned Michael evenly, turning to gaze around at the handful of villagers, and Rose stared at his face. That was it: his _eyes_! Even through this strange sepia filter, she could tell they were a vivid lavender, just like Mikleo's. "We must focus on what we believe in."

Rose shot a sideways glance at Mikleo to find him staring at Muse as she fussed over her baby, and her eyes widened. Was that…? "As a lone Shepherd with no other family in the world to call my own, I vow to protect Muse and everyone else," proclaimed Michael, raising a fist to his heart. "I swear it."

"So the Origin Village was occupied by Heldalf," murmured Sorey, narrowing his eyes as though thinking hard. Rose wanted to remind him that Mayvin had told them not to consider the answer yet… but something told her she didn't have the right, so she remained silent and leaned against Dezel instead.

"And then dragged into the chaos of war," added Lailah, closing her eyes as if to clear her expression, but her suffering was all too evident.

"Still, as Michael said, it's unfortunately understandable why neither army could turn a blind eye," sighed Alisha, shaking her head sadly, though she seemed to be talking mostly to herself. "Military matters are… messy, more often than not. Stalemates like this are more common than I'd like."

Sorey pursed his lips with a small frown, but Rose couldn't help but feel that he wasn't fully paying attention to Alisha's words; rather, his gaze shifted over to Mikleo. "Is something wrong, Mikleo?" he asked, nudging his Sub Lord's shoulder; his eyes hadn't moved from his significantly younger self.

"Huh?" responded Mikleo, as if roused from a dream. Yeah, he'd definitely seen the connection—but, to Rose's surprise, he didn't mention it at all. "Oh, well… the humans were treating Maotelus with scorn and contempt. No wonder his blessing was lost." He paused, biting his lip, then shook his head. "But there's probably more to the story. Let's head towards the shrine."

"Right," agreed Sorey, and led the way after the Rolancian army. Rose dared to release Dezel's arm for the purposes of moving more comfortably, but nothing could entice her to let go of his hand. At least no one else was mentioning it, she thought, and relaxed slightly into the soft sweet warmth all around her—the memory of sunlight, and the reality of his fingers interlacing with hers.

Along the way, they encountered a few villagers, and Sorey stopped short to listen in. Rose rolled her eyes; if they listened to everyone they met, they'd waste even more time, and hadn't Lailah said to hurry? "Could it be Rolance has noticed Michael led Lord Maotelus away from the capital?" asked a teenage girl, her voice hushed.

"No," responded a middle-aged man. "Much more likely, it's just a feint to draw out the forces of the northern territory." The man crossed his arms, glowering at the ground. "They just want a pretext to declare war."

"This is absurd," put in a younger man, shaking his head.

"Thoroughly absurd," added Edna, raising her voice slightly over their continued conversation as it lapsed into less relevant topics. "But that's humans for ya."

"You said it," agreed Zaveid darkly. "The more things change, the more they stay the same." Rose peered at him curiously; he'd been much more serious lately, to the point that Rose had started wondering whether something was wrong. (Well, more wrong than it already was.) But there was no time to inquire after his shift in mood, as Sorey led them further on.

More houses meant more villagers: "According to what the Shepherd said," remarked a nervous man, his voice high and his tone panicky, "the shrine is full of malevolence, and the village is beginning to lose its blessing."

"Oh no," gasped a middle-aged woman, taking a step back as her eyes flew wide in horror. Rose found herself wondering if their journey down the hill spanned days, just like in the other iris gems, since they seemed to arrive just in time to hear something crucial. "Is Maotelus going to become a hellion?"

"Let us put faith in the Shepherd," urged an elderly man, bent over and leaning shakily on his cane, but his voice sounded steady and soothing. "He said he would never allow that, even should it cost him his life."

"But still," put in another man, crossing his muscular arms, "if the Shepherd would be lost anyway, wouldn't it be better for us just to evacuate while we can?"

"There's no way that someone like Michael could ever do such a thing," murmured Lailah, resting her hands over her stomach.

"Right," agreed Sorey, confident in the virtue of his mysterious predecessor—but Rose had a bad feeling about this. "He's the Shepherd. He couldn't just abandon Maotelus and let him succumb to malevolence." Lailah sighed Sorey's name slowly, sadly, but said no more as the current Shepherd led them onward.

As they ascended an enormous flight of stairs, Rose had to let go of Dezel's hand… but at least she'd stabilized by now, used to the memory and the nature of her surroundings. (Besides, their hands needed to air out a little after this long clasped together.)

"If this podunk town can serve as the key to successful conquest of the northern territory," Heldalf was saying as they reached the top of the stairs, "then I can suffer the ire of one measly Shepherd." Rose rolled her eyes; what did one have to do with the other? More oddly still, he didn't seem to be addressing any of his men… and speaking of which, Rose gasped as a soldier sprinted past them—almost _through_ them. "What is it?" demanded Heldalf as he halted before them.

"An enemy attack!" exclaimed the soldier, panting, and Rose frowned; there was no _way_ this could all be happening so quickly. If warfare was really this fast-paced, she'd have been a lot more interested in her history lessons. Yeah, this must span several days.

"The northerners have arrived!" shouted the second-in-command, stepping forward, and Rose blinked. There had been no indication of an invasion from off the continent; what had given him that idea? Making assumptions like that could cause more than a few dangerous misunderstandings, and a man of his station ought to have known that…

"N-no!" stammered the messenger, shaking his head urgently. "It appears to be the Hyland army!"

There was a brief pause as Heldalf swept his cool and disapproving glance between his men. "I will not rise to their bait," he decided calmly, then turned his head to address the soldiers behind him. "Assemble the troops. We shall retreat."

"We will make no counterattack?" demanded the second-in-command. More like Jumps-to-Conclusions, thought Rose bitterly. _She_ could lead an army better than this guy, except that it might have meant serving under the Lord of Calamity. Future Lord of Calamity. Past future Lord of Calamity…?

"Would you have me throw men away on some meaningless skirmish with Hyland?" scoffed Heldalf, turning his back. (Rose had a few too many bad memories of that back; not counting the fight that culminated in his death, that was the last part they'd seen of him.) "Don't be an imbecile."

"Guess this town is destined for the scrap heap after all," remarked Jumps-to-Conclusions. "Have the order to retreat given at once!" he added, raising his hand in a signal of command, and the messenger nodded—draining some sort of flask—and took off down the stairs again without so much as a stagger. (Rose, fit as she was, could only ever dream of stamina like that.)

"Unbelievable!" exclaimed Alisha furiously, stamping her foot and clenching her fists; only rarely had Rose seen her this irate. "Doesn't he care about the villagers? How could he do such a thing!"

"This trivial nonsense is what got the entire village wiped out?!" demanded Mikleo of no one, hugging his arms to himself as if in sudden cold, and Sorey made a faint noise of distress and frustration.

Rose jerked her head up, glancing back as a shadow seemed to pass swiftly over the sun. She didn't know what that meant; maybe it was just symbolic—but she didn't like it. "Guys," she remarked somewhat hoarsely, clearing her throat as she caught the acrid tang of smoke. "I think we're supposed to… watch it happen."

Sorey bowed his head and grit his teeth at the prospects of witnessing this kind of destruction close up, but obediently led their hasty retreat down the mountain, though he stumbled for the first few steps. In the stiffness of his movements, Rose could feel a reluctance that ran deeper than pacifism; this seemed like self-loathing, born of forgetting his humanity and Heldalf's. He had once been no different than the villagers: human, with a life and story of his own… but they'd just cut him down. That was Rose's job, but she knew it had never sat well with Sorey—knew it, because she knew _him_.

She could tell from the distant screams of terror that this experience would be as heart-wrenching as it would be stomach-churning… and much to her dismay, she wasn't wrong. The town had been set ablaze in their brief absence, but it was the invasion that was more distressing still. As they arrived, a Hylander soldier cut down a defenseless young man; Sorey cried for him to stop it… but as he took a few hurried steps toward the dying man, Lailah murmured his name urgently, and he halted.

"Knowing we can't do anything to intervene just makes it worse," muttered Mikleo darkly, and Rose nodded as Michael arrived on the scene. He spun around as though lost or delirious, turning to stare around at the ruins of his village as though unable to believe his eyes. Rose didn't blame him; it had happened so quickly…

"What on earth is Heldalf doing?!" exclaimed Sorey, but Dezel's breath caught, and Rose glanced up at him to find him grimacing. His hands had curled into fists with the intensity of his anguish, and she rested her head on his arm in a gesture of sympathy and reassurance; he probably knew, all too well, what it was like to watch everything fall apart.

As though answering Sorey's question, the dying man addressed Michael: "Heldalf… abandoned the village and… fled," he gasped, with his last ragged breaths. Though the former Shepherd did not look at him, he heard, and took up a forgotten sword lying on the ground before his feet to address the more imminent threat.

"Filthy Rolance scum," jeered an approaching Hylander soldier, readying his spear as he paced around the scene like a great cat. "Sneak into the mountains, will you?!" Without so much as a battle cry, Michael brought down his sword in a surprisingly powerful two-handed strike… but the blow glanced off the shaft.

Michael's strength may have far exceeded Rose's expectations of his slim frame, but a kick in the back from the soldier's boot was still more than enough to unbalance him; he staggered and fell, losing his grip on the sword. He scrambled to retrieve it, but the soldier approached, hefting his spear, and Michael cowered in the face of his imminent death…

A savage laugh interrupted the scene. "There's more over here!" called a rough female voice gleefully, and Rose glanced over to find her gesturing to the soldier who held Michael's life in his hands. Inexplicably, he chose to leave the Shepherd alive, opting to charge after his comrade in search of slaughter instead.

"How could this happen?" whimpered Michael, his voice cracking, faint and feeble beneath the roar of fire. It was painfully clear to Rose that those flames would consume not only the village, but his heart, in the end; what had Zaveid told them, so long ago? Something about another of Lailah's—

"Shepherd!" interrupted a blonde girl in her late teenage years, staggering out of nowhere, and Michael finally got to his feet. Rose gave the stranger a quick glance over; she was hunched over, clutching her arm, and her dull dark eyes were brimful of pain and desperation. "Muse has gone to the shrine!"

" _What_?!" cried Michael, alarm and fear and anger sparking in his eyes all at once—the selfless terror of a brother (and/or husband, Rose thought before she could stop herself) and the unbridled fury of a wronged man. If she knew anything about plot twists, it was that fallen heroes made the best villains; she'd tried adopting that role herself.

"To beg the Rolance Army for assistance," explained the girl, swaying in place out of exhaustion.

"But Heldalf's already run away!" exclaimed both Shepherds in unison, and Rose glanced at Sorey to find his eyes wide in empathetic pain, just like that girl's—but only one voice continued. "Muse," cried Michael, already on his way, and his voice broke on her name. "Please be safe!"

"Hurry to the shrine!" ordered Sorey immediately, charging back the way they came, and Mikleo followed hot on his heels as Alisha trotted after them both.

"Wait! Please!" called Lailah, and they all slowed unwillingly to a halt, turning back reluctantly to look at her. "I understand that, as a fellow Shepherd, you feel strong empathy toward him," she explained, bowing her head. "That is normal. But please," she added, taking an impassioned step forward, "do not forget what Mayvin told us." As Sorey inclined his head and released a frustrated sigh, Mikleo shot him a glance out the corner of his eye. "You too, Mikleo," chided Lailah.

"I'm sorry," responded Mikleo, his voice low enough that Rose could barely hear him; unexpectedly, Alisha rested her hand on his shoulder in a gesture of comfort, her eyes glimmering in sorrow and worry. "It's just…"

Sorey glanced up, frowning, and there might have been tears in his eyes. "We can already tell this isn't going to end well," he said, his voice quiet and shaking in his grief. "But we still need to see this through, don't we," he continued; though it wasn't a question, Lailah nodded. "Let's go," added Sorey more firmly still, glancing over at Mikleo.

"Right," agreed his Sub Lord resolutely, and Alisha withdrew her hand from his shoulder with crestfallen countenance; all three of them took off once more, sprinting off in the direction of the mountain.

"Mikleo looks out of character, to say nothing of Sorey," muttered Rose, glancing up at Dezel. Not so much Alisha, she thought; the princess was about as headstrong as Rose. She had to be, if she was in that much of a hurry to climb all those stairs again—especially since this could only end in tragedy. In a way, her dedication was admirable.

"Well, of course," shrugged Edna, maddeningly superior as ever, and shifted her weight to one hip. "He was bound to notice before too long."

"Yeah," agreed Zaveid, running a hand through his hair. "And when you add in the fact that none of this is heading for a happy ending…" He leveled his dull scarlet stare pointedly at Lailah's back, a deep and abiding sadness visible behind his usual carefree veil.

"We all picked up on it," added Dezel, adjusting his hat with his free hand. "Mikleo, Muse, and the Shepherd… they're all so similar." Rose could tell from the slight hesitation in his voice that the same forbidden possibility had occurred to him, but far be it from either of them to suggest outright that one of their friends could be the product of a taboo like this.

But there were a few more important things to be thinking about right now than speculation over Mikleo's parentage: "Let's go," suggested Lailah, her eyes hardening, and Rose turned her gaze apprehensively toward Maotelus's shrine. "We're very close to the whole truth."

* * *

 _Here's Part 1 of the flashback sequence, mostly taken from the game itself. As with so many chapters, I had to split it in two after it ended up being ridiculously long. I also know Rose wasn't canonically scared… but even her exposure to the seraphim didn't totally knock out her fear of the supernatural, so it lines up pretty handily with her phasmophobia._

 _Also, fun fact: the localized description of "Red Iris Gem: Fyra" states that Michael and Muse are husband and wife, even though the dialogue says they're brother and sister. Having a mind twisted beyond belief, I've come to believe both are true. Just… something about their familiarity doesn't read like siblings to me. Especially since Mikleo's father is never even mentioned. *shudders*_

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Well, here's the rest of your answer! But listen—do you hear that distant crunch? That's the sound of the plot twisting. It is not a pleasant noise. Gonna take it a few sessions at a chiropractor's to straighten that one out. Basically, don't get too comfortable._

 _ **linake11:**_ _Yes, the other pact ring belongs to a certain violently violet seraph, and yes, that connection grants Rose some of her illusionary powers. Also, I don't care whether your Lunarre was actually affiliated with my story or not; I'm still smacking that on my profile so everyone else can see it too. So there!_


	39. Chapter 38: In Memoriam

_Slight M warning for implied violence of a specific kind? Sort of? Just in the fourth and fifth paragraphs or so._

* * *

Unless Maotelus was a fire seraph, it was probably bad news that his shrine was ablaze. Rose could see the plume of smoke all the way from the village, so she had thought she was prepared—but as they arrived, she felt sick to her _soul_.

She'd never been religious, but even before she could see the seraphim, she'd always maintained a certain respect, if not reverence. Brad always told her it was better to act as if they existed, just in case… but these Hylander soldiers headed jauntily towards them, little more than silhouettes amid the infernal haze, plainly didn't share those views.

Alisha's eyes widened in horror at the sight of her own countrymen talking and laughing among themselves like hellions, and she murmured something under her breath, sounding stricken—but her exact words were obscured by Muse's scream. Michael was barely ahead of them anymore despite his head start, running on empty, but the sound seemed to spur him up the last few steps.

"The child! The child!" cried Muse, lying on the ground and crawling toward the flames, and Rose grimaced at the sight. Her torn clothes and the soldiers' barbaric laughter, her inability to walk and the extra spring in their steps… _no_.

The sharp chill of shock and fury flooded Rose's heart, pulsing through her body, and even Dezel's hand curling around her waist to draw her comfortingly closer didn't calm her down until she distracted herself with the realization that he _was_ touching her waist. There was no time to dwell on it, however, as Michael sprinted past Muse and leapt through the flames to scoop up the bundle…

But, though his eyes scanned the flames for another opening, his eyes caught on the baby, and did not move. "He's alive," he murmured, his voice hoarse and ragged and cracking on every syllable. It almost hurt just to listen to him. "He's alive, but… oh, my gods…!"

Rose didn't realize she'd stopped breathing until Dezel brushed his free fingers against her diaphragm, as though something had landed on her chest again, and she inhaled sharply: Zaveid glanced over at her swiftly, but returned his gaze to the scene before them just as quickly. "Maotelus," managed Michael, turning his face up to the sky. "All is lost…"

Muse still lay some distance away in clear agony, both physical and psychological, but did not—or perhaps could not—say anything. "Maotelus has become a hellion," continued Michael to no one, "and this… this innocent child…" His voice was something between a growl and a shriek, a mumble and a shout, as he turned away. "All due to the insipid ambitions of one man."

"Brother?" cried Muse, struggling toward the flames as Michael approached the altar with measured footsteps. Rose shivered at his deathly calm; for him to resist the pull of malevolence, he must have already made up his mind… and whatever he had decided to do, it would lead to ruination. "Wait!" pleaded Muse frantically. "No, don't! Please! _Brother_!"

But Michael had already set down the infant upon the altar and raised a knife; Alisha almost staggered in place, evidently feeling faint, and Sorey rested a hand on her shoulder to support her—though Rose could see his fingers trembling, too. "O ye who brought us this misfortune… I grant thee eternal solitude!"

Michael plunged the knife down, and Rose inhaled sharply through grit teeth as pure malevolence streamed skyward from the altar. Alisha clutched her heart, her cry mingling with Muse's screech of despair: " _NO_!"

Rose thought she saw Michael fall to his knees behind the wall of flames, and though they could not naturally have heard his voice over the fire, it seemed as though he spoke in their heads: "Heldalf… live now and forever in a hell of your own making," he hissed, his voice raw and wavering with grief and anger, and the crackle of the fire died as the world went dark. "This… is my answer."

When Rose's vision came back into focus again, the rest of her didn't seem to be anywhere at all. Her eyes were fixed unblinkingly on a scene before her, and the others were nowhere to be found—yet despite this peculiar numbness, she thought she could still feel her heart racing, her breathing shallow. It seemed uncomfortably like losing her resonance, only she'd lost the ability even to perceive herself.

"Stop!" cried a rough voice, and Rose remembered with a jolt that she should be focusing on Heldalf and his men. Hylander soldiers circled around them, oddly silent, armor gleaming in the dusky light—and Rose found herself relieved that her body seemed to have vanished. Even though this confrontation had ended long ago, the last thing she wanted was to get caught in imaginary crossfire.

"So they anticipated our retreat," observed Heldalf impassively. "You are the Valkyries, I take it?"

But no sooner had the words left his lips than a bolt of pure malevolence struck him from above, forcing him to one knee and killing the surrounding soldiers instantly. That must be the curse, thought Rose, the realization hitting like… "Lightning?!" exclaimed one of his men, but only shifted in place—perhaps afraid of making sudden moves while surrounded by enemies. "General!"

"Heldalf," snarled a female Hylander, as he pushed himself slowly to his feet. "Prepare yourself!" But she gave him no time to do so, charging forward with one of her fellow warriors to plunge her spear deep into his torso. Heldalf grunted in pain, curling in on himself at first… but then he tensed and straightened, clenching his fist and raising his arm.

"Wh-what on earth—?" began the Valkyrie, her harsh voice acquiring a panicked edge as a sphere of shadows enveloped Heldalf's hand. She withdrew her spear a split second before the darkness expanded into a Lion's Howl, and she and the other soldier were thrown aside, limp-bodied.

Heldalf gave a growl well suited to the Beast he'd cast, but it became a yelp of pain as a swift and sudden arrow found its mark in his chest. He stood there, staring down his adversaries, and the archer stumbled back in terror as he ripped the arrow out of his not-so-human heart and threw it to stick in the ground.

"St-stay away from us, you monster!" cried another Valkyrie, scrambling back along with her comrades. Heldalf watched them go before turning back to his remaining comrades… but they too backed up and ran. Night seemed to fall further, but then Rose realized her vision was going dark again—and then, suddenly, she _existed_ again.

Her surroundings had vanished, but she stood with feet planted firmly on nothingness, her nerves buzzing within her wonderfully solid body. She blinked a few times just to get used to the sensation again, then realized abruptly that Dezel's strong but shaky fingers had curled around her palm once more. He must have reached out for her himself this time, and she smiled, relaxing into his touch. It didn't matter so much anymore that the world had disappeared, since he was still there beside her.

"So that's what went down," remarked Zaveid, breaking the silence as he ran a hand through his tangled hair. He seemed unusually calm about all this—but then, he'd been the one who'd known the most about this beforehand, other than Lailah herself. This had been what he'd confronted her about in the beginning, after all.

"Kittybeard didn't _become_ a hellion," continued Edna, looking as sorry as Rose had ever seen her—or at least more contemplative than usual. For all her comments about how unusual it was for Zaveid to be so somber, she could count the times she'd seen Edna this serious on one hand. "He was _made_ one."

Lailah squinted up at the sky. "One bearing the most terrible curse there could possibly be," she added softly, as if she knew from experience… or as if she expected history to repeat itself. Rose preferred not to dwell on that option, but that gut feeling told her that was the more likely of the two.

"And the one responsible for it… was the previous Shepherd," murmured Alisha, shifting her weight, and exchanged a troubled glance with Sorey.

"So then, I…" began Mikleo under his breath, his eyes narrowed in thought or perhaps pain. At his words, dawn broke like silence, white light bursting into Rose's vision so that she closed her eyes to shield them—and when she opened them again, they stood in the ruins of Camlann once more.

Rose gave an internal groan; what more did they need to see here? She'd already almost forgotten why exactly they were here to begin with. "It's not over, huh?" mumbled Mikleo apprehensively, echoing her thoughts, and Sorey murmured his name by way of comfort.

"We gotta be close to the end," remarked Zaveid. "Shouldn't we just take a quick gander before we head back?"

"Yeah, what he said," agreed Rose, her voice high and taut from anxiety, and she cleared her throat. "We already know how Heldalf became a hellion, right? We can interpret why we were supposed to have figured that out before we killed him _later_ , right? Let's get out of here!" Except that they didn't know how to get back on their own, thought Rose, but she really preferred not to explore the possibility of being stuck in the past forever.

"My goodness," began a hoarse and familiar voice, and the group whirled around as one to find a few seraphim approaching the destroyed village… led by none other than Zenrus himself. Rose jumped at the sight of a familiar face, half-expecting him to recognize them, but he ignored them just as all the others had. "What happened?"

"Such thick malevolence," remarked a wind seraph, grimacing, and Rose narrowed her eyes. For them to be here, Elysia must not be too far away; that at least gave them _something_ to go off. She wouldn't go so far as to say this wasn't a waste of time, but at least it could help them in some way. "I feel sick."

"Malevolence of this impossible magnitude can only mean one thing," continued Zenrus gravely, ominously, but did not stop. What he was looking for, Rose didn't know—survivors, perhaps, though she guessed there weren't any.

"Not Maotelus?!" exclaimed a fire seraph in a panicky treble, but Zenrus did not respond, instead pausing next to the body of a young woman clutching a very tiny _something_ wrapped in a dingy rag.

"Born far too early, by the looks of it," he whispered. "Poor mother and child… Neither of you deserved this." He stood there for a long time, then bent to recover the baby. "Perhaps this too is fate," remarked Zenrus eventually, gazing almost tenderly down at the bundle—and sent it carefully into the air, suspending it above his head with some kind of arte.

"That child's human!" protested the wind seraph, but Zenrus paid him no mind; either he surrounded it with light, or the light came from the child. A healing arte, perhaps. Rose shuddered to her core as she recalled the way Michael had so ruthlessly brought the blade down on his own kin; no such arte could fix that. Why must children die in a conflict they'd never even have the chance to understand?

"Are we not all the same when we first breathe this air, save for the vessel we chance into?" asked Zenrus mildly, but Rose's mind had raced far ahead to how their own actions could have doomed so many more children to deaths just like these. How many had been born within the time since they'd awakened Maotelus as a hellion? How many would die before they could reverse it?

Rose didn't even realize Dezel's hand had tightened on hers in an attempt to comfort her until he pulled her into a full embrace. She hadn't thought she could get so used to his touch that she'd be immune to it, she thought fleetingly, but this kind of discomfort was better by far than dwelling on the anguish in her heart. She relaxed into his arms, strong and steady, and forced herself to clear her mind: Mayvin hadn't sent them here so they could sink into despair.

By the time Rose tuned back into the world around her, Muse had arrived on the scene and collapsed to her knees, breathing hard… still clutching the corpse of her murdered child. Had she run all the way from Maotelus's shrine after everything that had happened to her? And… could she see the seraphim? "Muse," greeted Zenrus, his voice heavy with concern as he gazed intently down at her. "My goodness! What happened here?"

"I'm afraid there's no time to explain," responded Muse desperately. "We have to seal off the malevolence before it drifts into Elysia!" She clutched her lifeless baby to her breast before wrenching her gaze away from his face and, with an effort, she focused her eyes on the other infant, still hovering high above—and frowned. "Who's that child?" she asked disjointedly, but Zenrus made no effort to respond, only regarded the woman lying dead beside him. "Selene's?" she added, bewildered. "Could it be she… she was with child?"

Zenrus evidently had little interest in continuing the conversation in this vein, steering it roughly back to more dangerous waters. "In order to contain Maotelus within this land… you would be the sacrifice to seal the path to Elysia?" he asked, in thunderous incredulity. "But Maotelus is using the land itself as his vessel. Even if we can trap him here, it would be no more than empty consolation."

Muse's expression hardened, and her voice was calm and even; Rose took a moment to admire her fortitude. In her position, she'd have succumbed to the malevolence the moment her child was stolen. "I understand," she told Zenrus evenly. "But even so, this is something that we humans have brought upon ourselves."

"And the Shepherd?" asked Zenrus, evidently expecting the worst: Muse didn't even hesitate before lowering her gaze and shaking her head. Rose winced in sympathy; whether brother or lover or (gods forbid) both, she had lost her only living family. It must be difficult to say it aloud; Rose knew from experience that words only made it feel more real.

"I take it that… the Shepherd has finally fallen?" asked the fire seraph cautiously.

Zenrus turned his face up to the sky once more, as if asking it to provide him with an answer. "That may be so," he responded slowly. "But fate has blessed us with a thread of hope," he added, brandishing his pipe, and levitated the newborn Mikleo to rest in the air beside the other child.

"You don't mean to say… you will raise these children to become the Shepherd and his Sub Lord?"

At Muse's words, Rose blinked, then—along with Dezel—glanced sideways at Sorey to find his eyes wide. (So he was that second child. What were the odds?) "For a human and a seraph child raised together, anything is possible," returned Zenrus. "However… it all depends on these children. I humbly accept your two small beacons of hope."

Sorey murmured something that sounded like 'Gramps' under his breath, but Rose scowled at nothing, tightening her grip on Dezel's hand to keep herself stable. _It all depends on these children_? Seriously? _She_ was here, and so was Alisha, and Lailah and Edna and Dezel and Zaveid—all people, or seraphim, whom had never been chosen. Sure, Sorey had become the Shepherd, and Mikleo had made a pact as his Sub Lord, but everyone else was working just as hard to save the world!

"Zenrus!" cried Muse, pulling Rose back out of her thoughts. "I have not the words to thank you!" As she spoke, he waved his pipe to bring the two children down to her level as she staggered to her feet Muse approached her child shakily, sobbing dryly; Rose guessed she was out of tears. "Farewell, my dearest child… Mikleo," she murmured, a last goodbye to a child that was barely hers anymore.

Blinding light filled Rose's vision with her last whispered word, the glow surrounding the infant Sorey expanding to drown out the rest of the world, and she was jolted back to reality as the monolith materialized beneath her palm. Rose looked wildly around, her other fingers still intertwined with Dezel's. No more sunshine—just flowers, mist, and stone. The others removed their hands from the monolith as if self-conscious, glancing around as if at a loss: Alisha was the first to speak.

"So, Sorey, you were a survivor from that village," she remarked, stepping tentatively toward him, and extended her hand as if to rest it on his shoulder—but evidently thought better of it, and dropped it back to her side.

"And our boy Mickey was refashioned into a seraph," added Zaveid, standing on one hip with orange eyes burning into his fellow Sub Lord; Mikleo glanced at him out the corner of his eye, but when he spoke, it was not to respond.

"So I was a sacrifice," mumbled Mikleo, staring intently at the ground as if hoping it might give way and show him an answer.

"You can cry if you want," Edna told him, and her voice seemed unusually soft, though her eyes were too guarded to be truly sympathetic. Still, Rose could say with certainty that she cared, and that was more than could be said for most people.

"Why would I cry?" demanded Mikleo, turning to face Edna. "I'm surprised, to be sure, but I'm not sad." His voice was just uncertain enough, and his head inclined just far enough, that Rose wasn't sure whether she should believe him—but he rushed on before she could point it out: "And now we know where Maotelus is."

"And we were right there in Elysia, too," muttered Dezel, readjusting his hat with his free hand; Rose debated pulling her fingers away from his, but decided against it. She wasn't sure she could stand without his support just yet, or at least, not without swaying. "Figures."

"Hey, it wasn't a complete waste of time," pointed out Edna. "We got another Shepherd and Prime Lord out of the deal." As usual, it was nigh impossible to tell whether she was being sarcastic, though her voice wasn't sharp enough for her to mean any real harm. She could have made it hurt if she wanted, and she certainly could have pointed out that they were still holding hands.

"Don't forget the _actual_ reason," responded Alisha coolly, though there was a tinge of relief to her voice that suggested she'd rather talk about a comparatively minor disagreement than the confrontation to come. "We needed to know what was happening and why, and now we do."

Rose frowned. Speaking of which, where was the old man…? She glanced around in search of him, and found him near the entrance, bent to one knee—his breathing visibly labored even from this distance. A thrill of fear rushed through Rose, and she broke away from Dezel to charge forward, quickly recovering from a stumble just after she let go. (She was right; she couldn't stand on her own yet after all. Running was another matter entirely.)

"Hey, old man, are you okay?!" exclaimed Rose as she sprinted the short distance along the path, her frantic cry drowning out many other pairs of footsteps pounding after her, and she skidded to a halt and knelt beside him. She was no healer, but her gut told her that Mayvin wasn't long for this world. How had this happened, and why? How could they make sense of what they'd seen if he didn't help them…?

Mayvin opened his eyes with an effort to gaze up at Rose, and she forced herself to breathe again as the others arrived at his side. "It's—it's all right," he coughed, in an attempt at reassurance. "I knew this day would come eventually… and that it would be my last. But I have no regrets," he continued. "It's because… I violated the taboo."

Lailah sank to her knees beside him. "I'm so sorry it came to this," whispered the seraph, bowing her head—but Mayvin only shook his head slowly, weakly, his eyes remaining fixed on Rose. He seemed so… _fragile_ , so unlike his usual sturdy self, that she found herself unable to look away.

"I'm just glad you asked to be a Shepherd, lass," he told her feebly. "Because of that… I can see the bond you all share… and the dedication you have to righting your wrongs." He swallowed, his gaze sliding over to Sorey, burning with all the intensity of the life he could have lived had he not broken his oath. "Please… do not blame them," he added, and tried to jerk his head toward Dezel and Rose. "They merely did what they believed was right for all of you…"

"I believe in her, and I believe in Dezel," responded Sorey simply, and Rose smiled through her tears as the others all murmured or nodded their assent: she didn't realize Dezel had knelt beside her until he put an arm around her shoulders. "We will not waver in what must be done… so there will be no regrets."

Mayvin managed a smile. "It is time to say our farewells," he whispered, and Rose sniffled. "I wish I could have tested your strength and heard your answer, but… the trials ahead will be more than enough… for you to find it on your own." Though Sorey's eyes were full of loss, Alisha gazed down at the old man with a smile reassuring as forgotten sunshine, and his dim eyes lit up once more with a ghost of his old gleam.

"Never did I imagine… I would die with others… by my… side…" breathed Mayvin, his last exhalation before his chest came to a peaceful halt. His hand slackened, his pipe rolling to rest at Zaveid's feet, and Rose's vision turned blurry. As Dezel brushed his thumb reassuringly against her arm, she found herself wondering for a split second if the world was an illusion, or if the old man had pulled them back into the past—but then, she realized she was only crying.

* * *

 _And now, a moment of silence for Mayvin, as well as any respect I may once have had for the canon plotline. While doing research for this chapter I realized that in the end, they come to the exact same conclusion as the actions that lead to the bad ending, only the outcome magically changes this time just because they have context and a suicidal strategy. Don't let all the time I've spent on this 40ish-chapter fanfic fool you; I really kind of hate this game._

 _On a more genuine note, it makes some twisted sense I have to write a death the day after one of my church family passes. He was like a grandfather to me, just like Mayvin may have been to Rose. Rest in peace, Keith Tyler._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Heh, what can I say, I'm just here to spread my headcanons, and I guess that means giving the bad with the good? (I wish to gods it meant otherwise, but I can't write Michael and Muse as anything other than what I see them…) A spoonful or five of Dezerose should help that medicine go down, I hope! And I'd also like to thank you a third-or-fourth time for the masterpiece you created. I put it on my profile along with everything else, so everyone else can check it out too!_

 _ **Guest:**_ _Yeah, it's just a headcanon of mine. You don't have to share it; for all I know, Rose and Dezel might be wrong. Either way, thank you for the compliment!_

 _ **linake11:**_ _The Japanese version apparently refers to them as "family members" with no specification, so it seems localization-specific, but it's one of those cannot-unsee things for me. As for why Zaveid is the first to notice, I do think him being the oldest has something to do with it, but it's also that he just seems a lot more perceptive than he lets on. And of course I put the link to Lunarre on my profile! If someone comes from your artwork to my story, then someone should be able to get from my story to your artwork, simple as that. :)_


	40. Chapter 39: Push and Pull

They may have buried Mayvin's body outside Lohgrin, but his spirit stayed with them all the way to Elysia… and his good cheer prevented them from grieving for long. After the initial shock of parting, they'd reflected that he was finally free of an oppressive fate, able to wander the world on the wings of the wind if he so chose.

Rose, life-lover as she was, nonetheless envied that deathly peace of mind. Her seraph had ensured that she was sleeping properly ever since he'd taken up residence inside her, but as their travels continued, her dreams became increasingly more unsettling. They seemed almost unnaturally vivid, like visions, though most of their details faded with daylight until she couldn't remember anything at all; but as they neared Elysia, they defined themselves in more detail in her mind.

The darkness in her head grew less vague, the pain sharper, the chill of night colder, and the taste of blood more distinct… yet Rose could make little enough sense of the chaos in her mind that these nightmares provoked only a sense of anxious apprehension, hazy as illusion. Judging by his careful concern, Dezel understood its source, but knew better than to talk to her about it. She'd tell him when she was ready, and they both knew it.

It had to be the ring. Rose _knew_ it was the ring, from the chill cutting into her finger whenever she awakened from those dreams. But what could she do, other than bear it as best she could? The faint and aching loss she'd felt from it at first had turned sharper as they neared its other half, sapping her appetite and numbing her gut like she'd swallowed ice. There was little choice but to leave it on and hope it would lead her to the seraph eventually.

Rose had already lost a significant amount of hope that it would do so by the time they made camp at the edge of Aroundight Forest, planning to start the search for Camlann in earnest the next day. The night was fitful enough, but it was the slow and ominous dawn that brought with it her clearest nightmare yet, more lifelike even than the first the ring had ever given her.

Falling farther than sleep, Rose realized as if awakening that the pain wasn't hers to feel, and it wasn't her own blood she tasted. It was _Dezel's_.

…Panic slurring in her head. Something holding her hostage, shadows seeping into her skin. High, shrieking, nameless laughter. Muffled battle cries, screams of grief and agony. Dezel on the ground, bleeding out. No, not quite blood; something thicker, darker. Tongue so numb in her mouth that she couldn't call his name, and he didn't have enough breath left to say hers. Reaching out for her, blind desperation in pained eyes. Vision flickering out… not herself anymore…

And Rose knew in her soul, dread rising like bile, that she'd been seeing this same vision over and over, and she just hadn't known it, unable to see beyond herself to understand that it was always Dezel—that he might die for her—that this ring was a window into the seraph's mind, and that she intended to kill him—that _this was how it would end_ —

A voice like the wind burst into her mind, a _shhhh_ that interrupted her thoughts enough to slow them down, but it could not calm her racing heart. She tried to tell it no, it couldn't tell her to be quiet, it couldn't erase what little was left of her, it couldn't turn her into a hellion. She had to get free so she could warn Dezel…!

"Hold _still_ ," grunted the voice, an urgent growl next to her ear, and she felt herself frown, struggling in vain against someone far more muscular than her. A dream, she realized, her thoughts disjointed: she'd been dreaming, and this was reality. " _Please_ , Rose," added the voice, husky concern and hoarse exasperation clear in her ears—more familiar now. "Wake _up_!"

As if in obedience, her eyes snapped open. Rose saw nothing, at first, but she could at least feel one hand clutching her shoulder, another curled around her knees. As her head cleared, she noticed she she sat sideways on something surprisingly soft, her head pressed to a strong, slow heartbeat.

Dezel. Alive.

Rose's body relaxed, but when she forced herself to inhale, she ended up sniffling and then sobbing instead. Glancing furtively around as Alisha stirred in her sleep, Dezel got to his feet with a muffled grunt of effort to carry Rose carefully out of the clearing. " _Shhhh_ ," he soothed, clutching her to him more tightly. "Whatever you imagined in that messed-up head of yours, I won't let it happen. I promise."

But Rose shook her head frantically; the nightmare had felt so purposely malicious, like a premonition confident in its own truth. This could not be the work of her own restless subconscious; it was far too distinct for that. "We c-can't do this, Dezel," she whispered exhaustedly. "Wh-what if she k-kills you?"

But Dezel only offered her a small smile, sinking down to sit and lean against a tree. "Come on, you know better than that," was his only response, and though the words easily could have been impatient, Rose heard no such edge in his tone. After arranging her on his lap, he tentatively released her legs to encircle her with both arms, and that was almost enough to make her forget the sight of his malevolent blood on the ground.

…But not quite. "C-can't you stop them, Dezel?" she whimpered, and his embrace tightened all around her. "The n-nightmares?" she clarified brokenly. Now that she had finally understood the dream she'd been having all along, she knew with a certainty she could not explain that she would watch Dezel die again tomorrow night, and that it would kill her inside too. "They're… th-they're tearing me apart, and I… I'm _s-scared_." There; the words were out. _I'm scared_.

Dezel let out a long breath, slowly brushing a hand up and down her back. "I've been trying, Rose," he mumbled. "I can't stop them from tearing you apart unless I take control, and I don't ever want to do that to you again. But you know something?" he asked softly, resting his forehead briefly against her temple to whisper in her ear. "As long as I'm here, I will _always_ put you back together."

At his oddly tender words, Rose's heart skipped a beat in a sudden desire to tell him that she loved him, or at least how much she needed him. So strong was her yearning to confide in him that it seemed to consume all else, even the last lingering remnants of dream-inspired terror; her throat even mustered a weak vibration, her tongue dry yet ready to shape the meaningless sounds into something more…

But her breath caught just before the exhalation that would release them. _No_. It wouldn't be too much longer now before their battle against the Lord of Calamity, and if Rose could survive that, she could survive laying her heart bare—after it was over, when she wasn't half drunk on half-wakefulness.

 _After it's over_ , she repeated to herself. _After it's over_. _After it's over_ … "After it's over?" asked Dezel softly, and Rose's heart almost stopped before she realized she'd been mouthing the words. He must have read her lips like the wind. "What will you do?"

Rose let out a long and shuddering sigh, sniffling on the inhalation. "I'm a Shepherd, and you're my Prime Lord," she pointed out, offering a watery smile. "So… we'll probably be running around purifying hellions like there's no tomorrow, since there might not be a tomorrow if we don't." In retrospect, Rose would have preferred to have the freedom to choose her own destiny—but in a way, she _had_. She'd chosen this path herself, with Dezel by her side.

Dezel nodded. "If you'll still have me," he told her darkly. Rose frowned, searching his expression for an explanation for his tone, but found none. "I still have to stand trial, remember?" he added, glancing away as if unable to meet her eyes any longer. "Don't count your dragons before they hatch. You might not _want_ me as your Prime Lord when all's said and done."

"Why don't we get that trial out of the way now?" asked Rose, speaking aloud the first thought that came into her head even before Dezel finished his sentence. He swiveled his head to stare at her again, the winds circling around her as though confused. Honestly, this conversation was long overdue; they'd already become Shepherd and Prime Lord. The least she could do would be to ensure that she hadn't made a terrible mistake.

There was a long silence, as if Dezel was waiting for her to withdraw her suggestion… but eventually, he sighed. "I may not know much about human justice," he remarked finally, "but I always thought trials were supposed to have juries, and the plaintiff probably shouldn't also be the judge."

"This _isn't_ human justice," pointed out Rose, prodding Dezel's chest, and had to force her hand not to linger there. "You're a seraph. And anyway," she added hastily, as he scowled at her, "I think we've been through enough by now that we can just talk it out like adults. There's no need to involve anyone else in our business."

Dezel stared at her for one moment longer, perhaps mulling over the irony of talking like adults while she was sitting on his lap to get over a nightmare like a child—but finally adjusted his hat in a gesture of nervous resignation. "Fair enough," he muttered, making a desperate attempt at exasperation. "Let's get this over with, then. Where do you want me to start?"

Rose gave a smile as much in relief as reassurance; truth be told, she'd been anticipating a bit more of a struggle before he agreed to such a sudden request. "As far back as you can," she decided. "Whenever you first told yourself it'd be a good idea to take over my body, maybe."

There was a pause just long enough that Rose found herself closing her eyes out of exhaustion before Dezel finally spoke. "I made that decision so early on that it's still a little hazy, to be honest," he replied. "You know I used you to create the Scattered Bones. After that…" He hesitated. "At first, I only did it whenever I thought it was necessary to track down that seraph. Anytime the job sounded like it could lead me to her, I took over."

"Why?" asked Rose, frowning up at him. "I mean, I _know_ you wanted revenge," she clarified hastily as Dezel opened his mouth, "but how did you think an ordinary human like me could help you get it?"

Dezel took a deep breath. "It's true that you weren't as powerful on your own, but I—I just felt so much more _useful_ in your body," he responded, almost self-conscious in his hesitation. "I felt like I could actually touch the world around me, for the first time since I lost Lafarga. I could see again, for one," he added, and Rose frowned; she hadn't considered that before. "And… well, I thought maybe I could use our combined strengths to avenge him."

There was a hesitation in his voice that suggested Rose could say the rest as well as he could, so she gave in and obliged him. "Until you saw Sorey armatize," she continued slowly, "and then you found out there were better ways after all."

"Exactly," agreed Dezel, nodding in apparent relief that she understood. "So I put my all into figuring out whether we could armatize, even if that meant releasing the resonance I'd helped suppress for years. It would lessen the danger to you, for one." He paused, biting his lip briefly. "Still, I've never been so scared as the first time you saw me."

" _Never_?" echoed Rose, blinking a few times in surprise.

"Never," repeated Dezel, giving the ghost of a smile. "Or at least, not in the same way. You know I don't much care what others think of me; I just act according to my own conscience, even if it means acting alone." He heaved a sigh. "I thought all connection between us would be dissolved once I made Sorey my vessel in your place." Dezel shook his head, his hold on her tightening momentarily. "I was wrong. And I was afraid you'd see me for… well, for what I was."

"Wh-what do you mean?" managed Rose faintly, afraid he could feel how fast her heart was beating.

"Sorey once told me that if I joined them, I wasn't allowed to act alone," he replied. "But by the time he said that, I'd been on my own for years, and that's a tough habit to break. I was up front with the rest of them from the beginning about my motivations, but I could never bring myself to confide in you." His voice lowered to a mumble, and he did not meet her eyes. "A part of me must have known I was in the wrong, or else I'd have told you too."

"I did wonder about that sometimes," admitted Rose. "Why you came with us, I mean. You've always acted more like you'd rather sit back and watch the world burn than risk your neck trying to save it. N-no offense," she added in a rush, coloring slightly. Perhaps she ought to be a little more careful around the object of her affections.

"None taken," responded Dezel, and the corner of his mouth tugged up in a somewhat bitter smile. "It's true. But did you really think the others were so much more likely to save the world?" he pressed. "Am I so different from the rest of them?"

Rose shrugged. "Zenrus had high hopes for Sorey and Mikleo," she pointed out, trying to keep her disdain for their alleged 'chosen ones' deal out of her tone, "and everyone knows they'll follow one another to hell and back. And Lailah's their Prime Lord, so she doesn't really have a say in the matter," she mused. "That, and nobody can get away with anything when she's around, least of all the Lord of Calamity. She acts like everybody's fairy godmother, or something."

"Don't let her hear you say that," chuckled Dezel. "You know how sensitive she gets about her age. And speaking of sensitive," he continued, "what about everyone's favorite earth seraph?"

"She's spiky, to be sure, but not nearly as antisocial as you are," returned Rose. "I'd say she's probably in it for the companionship, even though she'll never admit it. I might have understood you more if you'd had a debt to repay like Zaveid," she added, "but to me, it looked like you joined the group just to tell me off all the time. And stalk me."

"You'd been my vessel for so long, I always put your safety first," protested Dezel. "And Sorey doesn't have the habit of putting himself in danger like you do. I kept a closer eye on you because I was used to my life depending on yours."

Rose snorted. "Yeah, like when you scolded me for riding on Sorey's back after I got hurt," she responded pointedly. "That was _so_ dangerous. He's definitely the type to take advantage of unsuspecting little girls like me." She shoved him playfully, but weariness made her weak enough that it had next to no noticeable effect. "I've definitely learned my lesson now that you've lectured me."

Dezel glowered at her, but evidently had little to say to this, as he offered no retort. In fact, Rose noticed that his expression seemed to be softening gradually the longer he looked at her, until finally he wrenched his gaze away from her altogether and opted instead to stare sightlessly into the distance. There was a long and oddly comfortable silence before he spoke again.

"I've… realized a few things since your eyes were opened," remarked Dezel eventually. "They opened mine, too. I saw that vengeance had blinded me in more senses than the one." He cleared his throat as if preparing to say something controversial. "I put you in danger all those years, because I was so fixated on what I thought I wanted."

"What you… _thought_ you wanted?" asked Rose uncertainly.

"Vengeance," responded Dezel heavily. "By any means necessary, at any cost. I _lived_ for that seraph's death. And don't tell Zaveid," he added, "but after we had our talk, I started thinking about what Lafarga would have wanted for me, instead of what I want for him. And as much as I still need to kill her," he added, leaning his head against the tree trunk so his hat slid partly over his eyes, "I've lost the obsession that drove me for so long. I've… found other things to live for, I guess."

Rose frowned. That didn't exactly line up with what Zenrus had said about their connection, but… "I seem to remember a sentence you never finished about our pact," she told him, as delicately as she could through her exhaustion. "I told you we shouldn't kill the seraph till our pact is settled. And you said…"

"I _told_ you to forget about that," responded Dezel sharply, readjusting his hat to glare at her, and Rose stiffened automatically at his tone. After noticing her doubtless startled expression, he let out a long light sigh like the wind itself, slipping his hand unexpectedly into hers, and she jumped before forcing herself to relax into his touch. "Do you trust me, Rose?" asked Dezel softly, his voice like steel in silk—intense, but guardedly so, gauging her reaction carefully.

Rose swallowed convulsively, her fingers twitching, and she shifted in place. "Yes, Dezel," she responded, making an effort not to let her voice shake as she contemplated how many directions such a question could tend. "I… I trust you."

"Good," smiled Dezel, squeezing her hand. "Then you'll listen to me when I tell you that killing that seraph isn't going to hurt either of us. That's what I was trying to tell you that night," he added, with an effort. "I don't have any proof, but I know in whatever's left of my heart that the strength of our pact doesn't depend on showing her mercy." He smiled sharply. "No pact of mine, accidental or not, would ever have conditions like that."

"If it's not based on revenge," began Rose, her eyes widening, "then what…?"

"After it's over," interrupted Dezel, another smile tugging at his lips, and brushed Rose's hand off his chest, his touch lingering briefly on her fingers. "Isn't that what you told me? There'll be plenty of time for speculation then." Dezel knew about her feelings, realized Rose with a shiver. He knew, and he wasn't saying anything. That could either be bad, if his motivation was the same as hers—or _really_ bad, if he didn't feel the same. Or perhaps it was the other way around.

"S-so," managed Rose with an effort, remembering that he was supposed to be on trial, "you're saying… you regret what you've done to me." Dezel stirred himself out of his thoughts and gave a single, abrupt nod, but did not reply in words. Fortunately, the answer to her next question was much more important anyway: "And what do you plan to do to make up for it?"

Dezel pondered that for a moment before answering. "A seraph's vessel is his life," he responded. "That means my life belongs to you, however long it lasts. I'll leave control of yourself to you, and protect you for the rest of my days or yours—whichever end first." He moistened his lips nervously. "I swear on… uh, whatever the hell it is that binds us," he added, and Rose couldn't help but grin as his solemn tone clashed with his characteristic coarseness.

But her smile crashed to the forest floor within seconds as sudden memories of her nightmare came flooding back to her like a tide of ink. She supposed it was only a matter of time; Dezel had done a remarkable job of keeping those dark recollections at bay, but even he couldn't hold them off forever. _Whichever of our days end first_ …

"Please don't say things like that," she ordered, shuddering and huddling closer to Dezel to escape the memory of solitude: he froze for a moment before clasping her once more in a loose embrace, which she fully encouraged. "We're in this together, so don't get any funny ideas about using death as an excuse to get out of making this up to me. You owe me that much. Got it?"

Dezel smiled faintly. "You're getting as soft as Sorey," he told her teasingly, shaking his head in exaggerated exasperation. "Fine. I promise I won't throw my life away. Happy?"

His word choice seemed so deliberate that it awakened that hollow ominous sensation in the pit of Rose's stomach—but she couldn't afford to be picky, so she settled for nodding. "Then… there's your sentence," she told him. "Trial's over. You're stuck with me now. Forever." Rose grinned at him, elbowing him gently. "Congratulations."

Dezel laughed in apparent wonderment. "And here I thought you meant to _punish_ me," he told her, shaking his head. "Some judge you are. What was the point of going through all that if you were just going to repeat the same plans we agreed on before the trial even started?"

"Hey, I never said you should stay with me _forever_ ," protested Rose, struggling to remember what exactly she _had_ said before the trial. Now that the nightmare had largely faded away, exhaustion was beginning to overtake her thoughts so that they all jumbled together into an inarticulate desire to sleep.

"Right," responded Dezel, letting out a single breath by way of chuckle. "My mistake. That was something you were probably going to tell me after it's ov…"

Rose pressed her fingers against his mouth to cut him off, trying not to think too hard about what she was doing—but then again, at this point, she was almost too tired to care. "I've heard just about enough out of you," she growled, making herself more comfortable in his lap (and consequently making him visibly less so). "Don't you remember how to be a _good_ pillow, like you were back in Pendrago?"

But even as she spoke, Dezel took her feeble fingers in his strong ones and pulled them just far away that she could still feel his breath on her fingertips: she shivered at the sensation. "It's almost dawn," mumbled Dezel, permitting her to tug her hand away, and glanced blindly in the direction of the other clearing. "The others will be getting up within the hour, and you know they'll talk."

"Let them," said Rose, snuggling closer to him and burying her face in the side of his neck; she could feel him stop breathing momentarily before he inhaled again with an apparent effort. "You said you'd put me back together, didn't you? You'll be giving the nightmares a head start if you go back on that now."

She half expected Dezel to put up a fight—but instead, he only heaved another sigh. "Go ahead and get some rest while you can, Rose," he told her, his voice low and hoarse. "I'll be right here if you need me." And maybe it was the comfort of Dezel's presence all around her instead of inside her as had come to be usual, or maybe it was just sheer exhaustion, but it seemed like no time had passed at all before Rose felt herself drifting off again.

But just before she fell into soft and dreamless darkness, she heard Dezel's voice addressing her as if from a great distance: "Oh, Rose," he murmured. "I hope you know that putting you back together is pulling me apart."

* * *

 _Of all the times for a chapter to split! At least I got in some serious Dezerose, even if I got… sidetracked… by HakuMyu, so it took several more days than usual. Expect things to heat up real quick once I stop salivating over fictionalized samurai and start updating again. Anyway, I hope this chapter doesn't read as too OOC compared to chapters past, but this was a long time coming so… yeah.  
_

 _ **The Final Conduit:**_ _Thank you for both sentiments._

 _ **Straya:**_ _Thank you; your condolences and compliments mean a lot. Do please keep in mind that this is a story based on the *bad* ending, however, so I'm not sure how 'satisfying' you'll consider their solution or how they reach it… though you're right that the Shepherd ritual is the moment everyone else realized they couldn't pull the self-sacrificial "this is my/our burden to bear, not yours" bullcrap anymore. Anyway, thank you for the reminder that you're following along even if you don't say anything! I have a habit of forgetting about that kind of thing._

 _ **Arthur Moebius:**_ _Eh, Mikleo/Sorey doesn't annoy me half as much as the potential the writers introduced into Zestiria and subsequently threw away, but I see what you mean. Of course, my story probably has its own problems too, so it's not like I can claim perfection. I can, however, say with certainty that I provide a lot more explanation for in-game events than the game itself, which is something that should never have to happen._

 _ **Thunder Explosion:**_ _Yeah, I didn't realize that particular plothole till I was researching last chapter, myself. I don't hate the game enough not to play it, or enough to stop buying Tales, but… well, the plot is SUCH BS. Anyway, I'm glad at least someone appreciated my weird headcanon; I can't say for sure whether it'll play a part in this story or not, but I might write a oneshot about it someday._

 _ **ViolettaXYZ:**_ _It seems I have a habit of updating almost immediately after receiving reviews from new readers… Anyway, thank you so much for all the compliments (and condolences). I'm glad I was able to provide such a close approximation of the story you wanted, and you have no idea how happy I am that I was able to rekindle some enthusiasm for this pairing even though canon unfortunately didn't deliver. I spent a week straight ironing out the entire plot before I even started writing, so I'm really glad it makes sense! And if you think more people should read this, a.) I'm more flattered than words can say, and b.) feel free to spread the word since that's not something I should do myself, hahaha. Thanks again!_

 _ **Rosethorngirl:**_ _Yeah, Dezel and Rose are certainly one of my favorite pairings, even though canon didn't do much with them. I haven't seen Fairy Tail, however._


	41. Chapter 40: Imperfect Impostors

For all their careful plotting and planning, there was nothing that could have prepared any of them for the trials on the road to Camlann.

"The chances that we'll meet the seraph you're looking for are… high," Lailah had remarked apprehensively that morning. "In fact, it may be impossible to avoid her." She'd hesitated, glancing over at Rose and Dezel. "Can you face her and obtain her ring _without_ damaging your pact?"

Rose and Dezel had exchanged a glance, sharing a small and secretive smile. If he was right, killing the seraph would have no ill effects for them. "Don't worry about that," Rose had told Lailah firmly, and Dezel had nodded his immediate agreement. "We've got it all worked out."

They'd traveled for hours to get into the depths of the Mount Mabinogio Ruins with no sign of hostile seraphim, but then—just as an ancient stone door slammed shut behind them—the ring _burned_. Rose gasped sharply in shock and pain, the sound echoing eerily down the corridor, but no one expressed any kind of concern for her. No one said anything at all. In fact, there was a silence so complete Rose could almost hear her own heart quickening as she broke out in a cold sweat.

Dread inching up her spine, she turned around slowly and discovered to her rising horror that Sorey and Alisha had just… vanished. "Wh-where is everyone?" she asked of no one, fighting her way through the sudden panic clouding her thoughts. Had she lost her resonance again? But then, why were Sorey and Alisha missing too? They were humans just like her, right…?

A sudden presence behind her interrupted Rose's thoughts. Whirling around, she discovered unpleasantly that she couldn't see it. Unable to tell if this entity was friend or foe, she drew her knives just in case and almost backed right into the wall before she remembered to settle into a combat stance. A low voice spoke from its direction, its words as muffled and indistinct as though Rose heard it from underwater.

She squinted, straining her ears in an attempt to make out the meaning of the sounds, and found herself twisting the ring on her finger as it warmed up. "Rose," said the voice finally, and she recognized Dezel with a jolt. "Don't tell me this is going to be like Morgause all over again." As if his words had triggered something, something like mist uncovered his form, and Rose stared at him, drinking in his presence.

"D-Dezel," she whispered, looking him up and down as she finally remembered how to breathe, and he smiled at her as much in relief as reassurance. "You're… you're _here_ ," she observed, faltering, and fingered her ring anxiously. If this had anything to do with the ring, then the seraph was behind it; and if the ring had powers over illusion, the seraph probably did too. They'd have to be careful.

"Big mistake on her part," remarked Dezel, shaking his head. "The two of us together can overcome anything. Not that I'm complaining," he added thoughtfully, "but she could have handled this situation a lot better by splitting us up. Maybe it's because we're Shepherd and Prime Lord, so she can't separate us?"

"Or maybe her power's spread too thin," suggested Rose tentatively, tilting her head. "If I'm not the only one she's trying to trick, then she might not be _able_ to split us up. She's only one sera…"

Dezel's shushing motion cut her off, and she blinked in confusion. "Hear that?" he asked, his voice urgent. Rose shook her head, but then Edna's voice spoke—her words indistinct, though more from distance than any artificial barrier. "Is it an illusion?" pressed Dezel, his wind wrapping around her in worry.

"I… can't tell," admitted Rose. "But I don't think so. There's only one way to find out, anyway," she added, striding down the stairs as purposefully as she could while her legs still felt so gelatinous. She didn't stumble till the fourteenth step, but fortunately, Dezel—hustling after her—grabbed her by the arm to keep her from tumbling the rest of the way down.

" _Slowly_ ," he growled, too anxious to be gentle. "You have a bad habit of rushing headlong into situations you don't understand. We need to tread carefully. Literally," he added, the breeze brushing pointedly past her feet.

Rose ducked her head in embarrassment. "Okay, okay," she muttered, though she couldn't muster any real resentment, so the words came out hollow. "Got it. Now can we get going and find Edna?"

Dezel inclined his head in an affirmative, but did not release her arm: Rose suspected he needed some kind of tangible reassurance that she wasn't an illusion, and she was honestly grateful for the physical support. It kept her mind off the ring, anyway—heating up again as they made their winding way through the ruins to the source of the voice.

As soon as they arrived, Rose frowned in confusion. Edna sat next to a blurry stranger, all black and white and yellow. Squinting, she willed herself to be able to see what Edna saw… and then, as if she had pushed past some sort of mental wall, the ring seared her finger again. At least the increase in temperature was gradual and temporary enough that Rose expected it, so though her breath caught and she grit her teeth, she at least stopped herself from crying out.

"Who's that?" asked Dezel, his voice low and quiet, and Rose remembered to focus on the illusion. Though the man's illusory outline had turned as sharp as her own real one, there remained a faint blur of color all around him, and he seemed much brighter than their dismal surroundings called for. Once Rose finally took in his appearance, there was no question as to the mirage's identity: this was Edna's hellionized brother, made a seraph once more.

And, further, she could hear his words more clearly now—but they were all lies, so she made a point of refusing to listen. Still, Rose couldn't help but catch that he was in the middle of some story about… pirates…? (Yeah, this definitely couldn't be her real brother. Why would an earth seraph know anything about seafaring?)

"E-Edna," began Rose tentatively, but she ignored her, leaning closer to her brother instead. " _Edna_ ," she repeated, more impatiently, raising her voice over… oh, what was his name? "Time to go. We're late to save the world."

Frowning fiercely, Edna jerked her head up, and though she didn't seem able to _see_ Rose and Dezel, she could certainly hear them. "Do you _mind_?" she snapped: Rose blinked, taken aback by her venom. "I'm talking to my brother. Eizen and I haven't been able to have a real conversation for centuries." She opened her parasol as if to shield herself and the illusion. "Leave us alone."

"It's not real," pointed out Dezel, and Edna froze in the middle of twirling her umbrella. "You _know_ what happened to your brother. He's a dragon, isn't he?" he pressed, even as Edna flinched. "And you know he's not going to get better without our help."

There was a brief and disbelieving pause before Edna jumped to her feet. "I said, leave us _alone_!" she shouted, folding her parasol and gripping the handle in both fists. Rose rested her hands on the hilts of her knives, eyes wide; she'd never seen Edna so angry. "I don't know where you are, and I don't know where I am, but I know where Eizen is, and you can't take him away from me again! I'm staying _right here_!"

As Edna stamped her foot to accentuate her point, the illusion laughed, leaning back on his hands to watch the confrontation without any attempt at either intervention or introduction. "W-would your real brother do that?" asked Rose, gesturing before she remembered Edna couldn't see them. "Look, he's just going to sit back and watch!"

"He lets me fight my own battles," countered Edna, though uncertainty clouded her eyes for a split second before she forced it back under the gleam of anger. "And I don't need anyone else. Now, get out of here!"

"You've _had_ to fight your own battles over the hundreds of years since he became a hellion," corrected Dezel, his voice oddly soft. "Listen, I know what it's like to lose someone like a brother, and I know no one can ever replace him." He sighed, and the winds sighed with him. "These idiots are all I have left, but I've come to think of them… sort of like another family, I guess." Dezel hesitated, readjusting his hat self-consciously. "That means you, too."

Edna stared at Dezel for a long moment—eyes full of hurt, confusion, fright, and tears—before bowing her head. "D-don't say that," she whispered. " _Eizen_ is my family. I can't… I can't just… I can't abandon him!" Her voice trembled, threatening to break. "I can't even see you," she mumbled, glancing away.

To Rose's surprise, Dezel approached Edna cautiously: closing her eyes and concentrating hard, she willed him to break through the illusion. Maybe she could get a visual through the barrier…? Sure enough, she heard a small gasp, and opened her eyes tentatively to find Dezel kneeling before Edna as she stumbled back out of apparent shock at his sudden appearance.

"Don't think I've gone soft," Dezel told her quietly, blind eyes blazing. "And don't think I'm volunteering to become your brother, either, because neither of us want that. It's just that we need you, and you need us, even if you don't think you do." Edna's eyes widened, and the illusion got silently to his feet in the background, looking murderous. "Let's just get this over with, and go home."

The mirage paced forward as if to stand beside Edna, fists and teeth both clenched furiously—but before he could even reach his so-called sister's side, she brought her parasol up to jab him in the core, turning her face away from him as if she could not bear to look at what she had done. To Rose's surprise, even that threat of violence was enough to stop him in his tracks; judging by his build, he could have broken that parasol to pieces.

"Edna," he remarked, the clearest and most genuine words Rose had heard from him yet: for a moment, she understood why Edna had thought he was real. "Why…?"

"I'm… sorry… for what happened to you," managed Edna tremulously, withdrawing her umbrella and closing her eyes. "I promise… we'll find a way to save you soon." The illusion only stared at her for a moment longer, then sighed and disappeared in a puff of purple smoke with a sound like muted fireworks. Edna let out a brief sharp exhalation a little like a sob, but did not turn around to confirm what she doubtless knew to be true.

Dezel, predictably, wasted no time on sentiment: "Go," he murmured, getting to his feet again and resting a half-comforting hand on Edna's head. "Lead us to Sorey. He's somewhere around here, isn't he?"

Edna nodded haltingly and sniffled. "Thanks," she told them, so quietly Rose could barely hear the word, and vanished into golden light just as a last tear dropped to the ground. Rose stared at her non-physical form in shock, considering how much trust it took for her to dissolve like this without knowing Sorey's exact location. Even within a stable domain, if he was too far away, she might lose too much of herself along the journey to remanifest at all…!

Swallowing, Rose shook herself back into her body and hastily followed in the wake of her trail of light, Dezel hurrying alongside her. Edna may be able to lead them to Sorey as Dezel had suggested, but she moved much faster, uninhibited either by the physical world or by the seraph's illusion. And speaking of which…

"Just imagine," exclaimed an all-too-familiar voice, like an older Mikleo. "A village full of resonant humans, within a day's travel of Elysia! We could really change the world!" Rounding the next corner into another room, Rose and Dezel stopped short: a perfect replica of Michael paced around the kneeling Lailah, looking as excited as Mikleo in the middle of unexplored ruins—but the fire seraph shook her head wordlessly, plainly miserable.

"Why not?" asked the mirage, stopping and peering at her closely as his smile crashed to the stone floor. "We found the perfect place for it. You _helped_ me find the perfect place, remember? After we led Maotelus away from the capital?" Lailah flinched at the forbidden name, but said nothing, not even her usual nonsense.

"Lailah!" called Rose, but she did not react: she only scowled fiercely, concentrating as if wishing to disappear just like Edna. Rose realized she was holding her breath, almost praying that Lailah could vanish… but when nothing happened, she guessed her senses were dulled by the illusion, and she couldn't tell whether he was close enough for it to be worth the risk.

The illusion laughed cruelly. "You always do this," he pointed out. "Every time I say 'Maotelus'. Why did you even take that oath, anyway?" he persisted, as Lailah winced again. "Just for power's sake? Just like the prince we proved wrong?" The fire seraph bowed her head, grimacing as if in physical pain, but did not break her silence.

"Lailah," tried Dezel. "You _know_ this isn't real. Snap out of it."

Though Lailah turned her head slightly to frown in his direction, she turned to face the mirage again as he spoke once more. "I always found it so funny," continued the false Shepherd, resuming his pacing, "that so many humans would rather be seraphim, but you're a seraph who wants so badly to be human that you'll pursue something as corruptive as _power_ in the name of purification." He paused to cross his arms. "Isn't that interesting?"

"But she's not like you!" burst out Rose, stepping forward, and Lailah glanced over at her in confusion, her eyes searching; she still couldn't see her, then. "She uses the power of purification to help people! And if that means taking a stupid oath and making no sense whenever anyone tries to get her to break it," she continued, stopping just before the illusion of the former Shepherd, "so be it."

The mirage of Michael scowled. "Who are you?" he demanded. "And how can you claim to know Lailah so much better than me? I've been her Shepherd for seven years. I've seen what she's done, and she's told me things about this world that you wouldn't believe."

"So there _is_ someone there," remarked Lailah, half to herself, and the illusion's eyes widened in apparent horror, a muscle in his jaw tightening: Rose grinned. Oops. Maybe they weren't working with a master after all. (Then again, she thought in sarcastic sympathy, it must be difficult maintaining all these illusions at once.)

"Lailah," began Rose, but realized that she still could not see her, and concentrated on the ring hard enough that her blood hummed deafeningly loud in her ears. After several more seconds and another burst of heat from the ring, Lailah's eyes finally focused on her, filling with tears of relief; Rose noticed that Dezel had stepped forward to stand between her and the illusory Shepherd. "We're here for you, always."

"Wh-what are you talking about?" demanded the mirage of Michael, curling his fingers into a fist, and Dezel cracked his knuckles to loosen up in case a brawl started. (This illusion, too, was more easily cowed than Rose expected, as he opted to shift in place rather than attack.) "I'm her Shepherd— _the_ Shepherd! You have no right to—"

" _Sorey_ is her Shepherd now," interrupted Rose, glaring at him. She'd never wanted to punch an illusion so badly. "And I'm a Shepherd, too, so don't you start with me about ranking! We're busy cleaning up _your_ mess," she continued furiously. "You've lost every right to stop us, so stay the hell out of our way!"

"You're not even Michael, anyway," added Dezel, his voice a quiet but almost bestial growl, and slid his feet into a combat stance. "You're that seraph's puppet, and I'm coming for your master."

The mirage tilted his head back and laughed. "Oh, nicely remembered," he chuckled, vanishing just like the illusion of Eizen.

After making sure he was gone for good, Rose knelt next to Lailah and helped her up. "Thank you," she murmured, glancing between her two saviors. "I… I knew it was an illusion. There was no way Michael could have…" She faltered, frowning, and stared down the corridor behind them as though their other comrades were hiding there. "Where is everyone else?" she asked, changing the subject abruptly. "Do you know?"

"No," returned Dezel gravely, crossing his arms. "But Edna thought Sorey was near enough that she could risk vanishing, so she did. We were following her trail when we found you."

Lailah nodded once, but the motion seemed distracted. "The seraph… forced us all out of him when we were separated," she confessed, clearing her throat as her voice almost broke. "I had no idea such a thing was possible. It must take… tremendous power. But," she continued, "that means she's used up much of her strength already. And if she's maintaining this many illusions at once…"

"Dezel and I can handle it," Rose assured her, sensing her unspoken question and answering it for her. "You should try to go back to Sorey—see if you can help him find us."

Taking both their hands in her soft warm ones, Lailah gazed between Rose and Dezel earnestly. "Be safe, you two," she murmured, and disappeared into a stream of red light before either of them could even return her well-wishes.

This time, Dezel put his all into windstepping so they could better keep up with her, but again another illusion interrupted them… and this time it was because the air turned so viscous they could barely move. By rescuing the seraphim one by one, Rose supposed they were eliminating the seraph's distractions, granting her time to reinforce the remaining mirages with added barriers.

"Finally," remarked Zaveid's voice from around the corner, loud and clear, and Rose's heart skipped a beat: had he really sensed their approach already? But as he kept talking, she realized he wasn't addressing them: "I was wondering when something would actually happen. I mean, being stuck in a small room with nothing and nobody to do _is_ pretty much hell for me, but… you didn't trap me here just to test my patience, did you?" He laughed, as though anything about his situation was funny. " _This_ is more like it."

Rose and Dezel waded through the seraph's last layers of protection, the former focusing on her ring (ignoring her growing headache) to carve a path forward. Rose half expected to see him talking to a single sinister seraph, the same Dezel had been looking for all these years, but instead… he seemed to be surrounded by hellions.

Gasping, Rose realized that she recognized these people and seraphim: they were _them_. All their friends, including herself and Dezel and even Zaveid himself, all stood in a circle around him, corrupted by malevolence—skin blackened as if burnt, dark hair streaked red as if stained in blood, ears and teeth and nails pointed, eyes all empty and glowing white-hot.

"Z-Zaveid," managed Dezel, his blind eyes wide… but he did not react, preoccupied with taking in the scene around him. Eventually, Zaveid stooped to pick something up: a device just like Siegfried, silver accents glinting in the dim gray light.

A dark smile spread across his face as he weighed a leather pouch in his hand. "Enough bullets to _liberate_ all but one, huh?" he sighed eventually, shaking his head. "Reverse northern roulette it is," he added, looking up at the ceiling. "Hope you're watching, honey," he growled, readying his weapon for war with an ominous metallic click, "because I'm gonna give you a hell of a show."

The hellions made no moves, either offensive or defensive—but so quick and almost reflexive were Zaveid's motions that Rose would have thought he was in the midst of a real battle. "They love me," he began, solidifying his stance and shooting the hellionized Sorey in the forehead, and Rose gave a soft sort of scream as Dezel inhaled sharply in shock… but Zaveid didn't even hear her.

"They love me not," he continued, shooting the malevolent Rose in the heart just as casually, and she felt as though her real heart had stopped as surely as the fake hellion's. So it went on: each time he shot one of them, they burst into the blue flames of artificial purification, dropping to the ground and vanishing into smoke. More unsettlingly still, he spoke as though doing nothing less innocent than plucking petals from a daisy— _they love me, they love me not_.

But Zaveid only had enough bullets to 'save' most of them, thought Rose frantically; he'd have to leave one of them corrupted. Would it be Dezel, whom had always resented him? No; he was next to die. Lailah and Edna followed immediately after, so swiftly Rose could barely register their absence, and then came Mikleo. Finally, there stood only Alisha and Zaveid himself, and he grinned almost as savagely as his corrupted self: Rose felt a flash of fear for the Squire, but…

"They love me," finished Zaveid, firing Siegfried for the final time—and Alisha collapsed, falling to the same azure flames as had claimed her illusory comrades.

Rose's eyes widened in shock: the princess would have made the weakest hellion among them, so she would have thought Zaveid would put himself down and leave her malevolent. Why had he sacrificed himself instead…? "Zaveid!" bellowed Dezel, cutting into her thoughts, but even the few remaining walls of this mirage must have been much thicker, because Zaveid again did not respond.

"Joke's on you," he whispered, grinning, but Rose could barely hear him over the sound of her own heartbeat and the high-pitched whine of pain in her head as she focused all her energy on breaking through the illusion, scowling fiercely at the scene before her. "They love me, so I can't lose. Now…" He shifted into a purposeful battle stance, his scarlet eyes sparkling with the itch for a fight as he took in his hellionized self, analyzing all his own weaknesses, and his voice became a roar. " _Bring it_!"

Dezel charged forward at the same time as the hellionized Zaveid sprang to action, his pendulums lashing out as if they had wills of their own to wrap around demonic wrists and pull him off-balance with all his strength. The real Zaveid frowned, but Rose's eyes slipped automatically shut as she leaned against the wall, and she saw no more.

"Someone there?" asked Zaveid warily, grunting with the effort of making some attack. Just like him to fight first and ask questions during, thought Rose; there was no time to waste. (He and Dezel really were more alike than they'd like to admit.)

"Yeah," responded Dezel, though his voice broke in the middle of the word, and there was a thump as he probably rolled away from some sort of attack. "Rose and I are gonna get you out of here," he added, breathless already, and panic expanded to fill all available space in Rose's head. This wasn't like the other mirages; this one was mimicking all Zaveid's physical strength and skill and using it against them. "We can't afford to lose you to an illusion like this before the real fight even begins."

Zaveid let out a rumbling laugh. "Never thought I'd see the day when _you_ saved _me_ ," he remarked teasingly, though Rose was still thinking about the danger; how could they talk like that when the seraph was trying to kill them like this? She had to stop it…! "Though I still can't see you… whoa!" Something snapped suddenly in Rose's head, the ring scorching her finger so that she could no longer suppress a screech, and all the strength seemed to go out of her body as she fell to all fours: what was _that_ …?

"Rose!" exclaimed Dezel, charging forward and kneeling by her side to support her. She tried to wave him off and tell him to go back and help Zaveid, but neither her arms nor her voice would respond as she caught her breath, the ring thankfully turning icy once more so that it numbed the pain it had inflicted. Only after a few seconds of nauseating dizziness did the world stabilize enough for her to look up and realize that the only Zaveid present was the real one.

"Don't worry, the illusion… uh, broke," remarked Zaveid, sauntering up to her before she even had time to be confused. "Listen, are you sure you should be wearing that thing?" he added, eyeing the ring carefully. "It's handy for the rest of us, true, but if you put yourself out of commission on our account, that won't help anyone. Especially not yourself."

Rose took a few more deep breaths. "Anything I can do… I will," she managed weakly, and Dezel helped her sit up as she swallowed convulsively. Her head hurt almost too much to think, but she had to continue: "G-go back to Sorey, and let us follow you," she added. "Lailah and E-Edna should already be with him…" But Zaveid was busy casting some sort of an arte, muttering something about quickness.

As curative energy expanded in her core, Rose's head cleared slightly, the ache receding, and she found that he'd given her enough strength to stand—at least with Dezel's help. "Don't do anything stupid, you two," Zaveid told them, crossing his arms, before she could thank him. "I've got a bad feeling about this." And with that, he dissolved into viridescent light.

They seemed to be getting closer to their quarry every time: in fact, this time, they followed closely enough to see Zaveid vanish through a stone door which Rose could only assume led outside, judging by the faint violet light seeping through the cracks. That was probably their destination, but again, they were given bigger problems to worry about.

There was no illusion here, no barrier between Mikleo and reality; he glanced up with confusion written plain across his face as Zaveid's green light fled the room. More alarmingly, and more puzzlingly, Rose realized that there were dead Hylander soldiers sprawled everywhere. If this _wasn't_ an illusion, what could they be doing here? And why was Bartlow among them? (Thank the gods Alisha wasn't here to witness his final treachery.)

But even as she wondered, Dezel shook her shoulder and pointed to a likewise motionless lady, eerily familiar—right out of the Earthen Historia. "Muse," she gasped, and stumbled toward her; though her footing was still less than steady, the journey here seemed to have energized her instead of enervating her further, and she was at least able to stand on her own. "Mikleo, what are you doing? _Heal_ her!"

But, though he shook his head, he did not heed her words. "An illusion," he muttered, half to himself. "It _has_ to be an illusion. My mother, surrounded by the corpses of Hylander soldiers… What could it mean…?"

"Are you blind?" snapped Dezel, and Rose might have smiled at the irony if the situation hadn't been so dire. "It means your mother got a lot of blood on her hands to protect Camlann. This is real!"

"That's exactly what an illusion would say!" snapped Mikleo, but he sounded a little less certain this time, and his eyes landed on Muse and stayed there.

"You're probably one of the only seraphim in the world who has at least one parent," responded Rose desperately. "Don't throw that away. Please, Mikleo, all I ask is that you believe us." She knelt next to him and held out her hand in urgent exasperation. "Look, do you want to touch me and see, or something?" she demanded. "I don't know if illusions are solid too, but there's no time to waste, so whatever you need to feel confident—!"

Even as she spoke, Mikleo brushed his fingers hesitantly against her palm, and his eyes widened at her solidity. "I…" he began, either an apology or an excuse, but shook his head and drew his mother partially into his lap to support her. Closing his eyes, he bathed her briefly in healing light, and—to Rose's relief—she stirred. "A-are you all right?" asked Mikleo, pale and clammy and clearly shaken by his mistake.

Muse's eyes fluttered open, and Rose remembered to breathe again, though she had as bad a feeling as Zaveid that this reunion could not end well. "I sense… malevolence…" she whispered, her eyes flicking to the door leading outside. "But… it's not too late… if I still have my life to give."

"What are you doing?" demanded Mikleo, as Muse struggled to sit up. "Don't try to move!"

"Please, dear seraph," begged Muse, every syllable a sob, but did not have the strength to look up at him and verify his true identity. "I need to… I must do this… I want to give the world reason to hope! Even should it cost me my life!"

"But why?" asked Mikleo, his voice hoarse and constricted.

"Because I believe… I believe that the children raised by Seraph Zenrus will one day grow to become a Shepherd… and his companion," responded Muse, and Rose struggled not to be resentful that she too believed all hope rode on two children. "I believe they will lead us to hope for the future… A bright future where humans and seraphim can live hand in hand…"

"And that is… your answer," murmured Mikleo, narrowing his eyes in sorrowful contemplation.

"Please," continued Muse faintly. "My staff…" Mikleo grasped at it clumsily, numbly, and Rose's heart twinged in sympathy. Muse breathed her gratitude as her hands found the staff, and she staggered to her feet, using it like a cane to support herself as she approached the door.

"Farewell, Muse," murmured Mikleo, gazing up at her solemnly, and she turned to look back at him… but did not seem to recognize him. "I too believe in your wish. And I know it will surely come true." His mother was practically a stranger, responsible only for giving him a life he'd lost soon after he was born, yet Rose could still sense the turmoil beneath his steady voice: if he had recognized the reality sooner, could he have saved her, or convinced her not to die…?

"Thank you," whispered Muse, and approached the door. Turning her back to it, she tapped her staff briefly against the ground, raising it into the air perfectly straight, and closed her eyes as if in prayer: the blue light of purification enveloped her with a sound like rushing water—and she vanished, her essence scattering to seep through the cracks in the door.

Mikleo heaved an echoing sigh, and his lips formed the words _you can cry if you want_ , as though he imagined Edna speaking. But he did not say them aloud: "Of course it _had_ to be real, the moment I was prepared for an illusion," he muttered instead, shaking his head slowly. "Now that the malevolence has… lessened… let's go out there and find Sorey," he continued awkwardly, nodding towards the door. "Did you see any of the others?"

Dezel nodded. "Everyone, except for Alisha," he told him. "Lailah, Edna, and Zaveid should all be back inside Sorey by now. You'll probably want to take the shortcut to your vessel instead of wandering around with us, though."

"Fine by me," responded Mikleo, and the three of them heeded some unspoken signal and rose to their feet as one. "Do either of you need healing before you head out there?" he added, as an afterthought. "I don't know what you'll find, but… if there's that much malevolence, it can't be good."

"I think we have a pretty good idea," responded Rose, exchanging a glance with Dezel. "Everyone else we found _was_ stuck in an illusion, so whoever put them there has to be somewhere nearby. And we all know what that means…"

Mikleo's only response was to close his eyes and hold out his staff; a casting circle appeared beneath him, and Rose let out a long sigh as her tense muscles relaxed and her headache dissipated. It wasn't enough to fully energize her, but she at least felt _normal_ again, and that was as much as she could have hoped for.

One more arte later, this time for Dezel, the three of them exchanged glances. "I hope you're ready for whatever it is you're getting into," Mikleo told them, shaking his head. "Best of luck. I mean that," he added, as though there had been any doubt of his sincerity. "You'll probably need it."

"What do you take me for, you?" returned Dezel, grinning unnervingly, and Mikleo rolled his eyes. He'd been among the most merciless upon discovering them that morning—at least until Dezel made a few implications concerning Sorey that had sent him storming off. (Rose only wished she could have been awake since the start of that particular confrontation, because according to Zaveid, it was the stuff of legend.)

Thinking back on memories of friendly banter from less than half a day ago, Rose realized how much she wanted a world in which the only fights were playful ones like that, between brothers and sisters even unbound by blood. She only realized she was smiling when Mikleo hesitantly returned the gesture: taking one final deep breath, he vanished into light a few shades darker than his mother's soul, and disappeared through the door.

Dezel and Rose followed, then paused with their hands on the last stone slab separating them from their destination. "Ready?" he asked, glancing over at her, and she found herself surprised at his consideration. How differently he acted from the seraph who would have forcibly controlled her if it meant he would get his revenge!

"No turning back now," responded Rose as resolutely as she could, reaching over on an impulse to brush Dezel's hair tenderly out of his face. He grinned at her one last time with such wild, radiant happiness that Rose found herself bewildered that such a simple gesture could make him smile like that—and then, together, they forced open the door.

The world flashed white as soon as they stepped through, and Rose took a combat stance… but, judging by the thunder that almost immediately followed, it was only lightning. Rose and Dezel each took several steps forward, covering one another's backs instinctively. No one was here: not Sorey, nor Alisha, nor the seraph whom they hunted. In fact, the world seemed utterly empty; all that existed, or mattered, was the howling wind and the pelting rain.

After a long silence, Rose opened her mouth to ask what they should do—but even as she did so, Dezel stiffened suddenly, and he whirled around. Had he picked up on something she had missed? Turning slowly to face the entrance to the ruins once more, Rose realized with a jolt that they weren't alone after all, and her heart leapt to her throat as she realized that this was the moment they'd been waiting for…

" _You_!"

* * *

 _Individual illusions inspired by "Tales of Symphonia", arguably the best in the series (which automatically means I couldn't do it justice, but references are references). Also, lots of you have been asking whether I've seen "Tales of Zestiria: The X" yet; I have not, but I will whenever I have time/focus… Anyway, I'm sure I don't need to tell you to brace yourselves given that cliffhanger, but just in case, consider this your warning._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _I'd have liked to write everyone else's reactions, but when I tried, it served only to lengthen (and lighten) the chapter. Maybe I'll add them to the sidequest story someday._

 _ **ViolettaXYZ:**_ _Thank you for the reassurance! Also, wow, that's actually a lot of people to corrupt with this. Normally I can't get anyone to like anything, so color me impressed; I'm better at catering to people who are already in fandoms, haha. And oh goodness, can I say once more that your cosplay is/was fantastic! I stuck a link on my profile in case anyone wants to see it!_

 _ **linake11:**_ _To be perfectly honest, I'm not quite sure why Dezel said that. I don't often direct the characters to say things, if that makes sense. They just sort of do, and I create the narrative around the dialogue that appears in my head. Your rationale makes enough sense that I'll accept it as true, though._

 _ **Pasukaru:**_ _Well, thanks for recommending me as an author! But keep in mind that the story isn't over yet, so see if you still feel that my ending should be canon after a few more chapters. Also, you speak English better than I can speak any other language, so there's no need to apologize! And, as mentioned in my response to Violetta, I've included a link to your picture on my fanfiction profile too, because talent like yours and Violetta's should be shared with the world._

 _ **graveMonera:**_ _Wow, thank you so much for all the compliments! Reading a story as long and convoluted as this in one day seems like a lot to swallow to me, but it seems to be the trend, haha. I daresay I am in fact enjoying the story overall, in large part due to reviews like yours—although you seem to have caught up at rather a… tense time._


	42. Chapter 41: Angel of Death

Dezel's snarl barely carried over the wind, but Rose would hardly have heard it anyway, such was the intensity of her focus on the pale little girl standing before them. She may not have spent much time imagining her latest nemesis, but she certainly hadn't pictured _her_.

The wind tugged restlessly at what Rose could only assume was supposed to be a shirt; it more resembled a vest, tied at the shoulders and secured at the side with flimsy string. An accessory a little like a lion's tail dangled from the back of her ridged belt, thick enough to almost completely obscure her too-short shorts—balanced out by torn black stockings stretching up to her slender thighs.

As Rose finally glanced up at the seraph's face, she froze: her magenta eyes glinted bright and cruel, set off by a sharp white grin. Her hair hung to her shoulders in girlish purple pigtails, secured by bursts of unsettlingly vivid orange flowers, but her attention was drawn swiftly back down to the girl's lips as she giggled faintly.

"Yes, me," she responded in an eerily monotone soprano, tilting her head slightly to the side, and Dezel shifted into an automatic combat stance as Rose shuddered. "I wondered whether I'd meet you here tonight."

Dezel grit his teeth, and Rose glanced over at him. His fury seemed to have frozen him in place; perhaps she ought to get this party started. "You got a name, sweetheart?" she demanded, drawing her knives and settling into a fluid combat stance.

"My, but you're an impatient one," laughed the girl, rolling her shoulders in something of a shrug. Loosening up, thought Rose, narrowing her eyes at the subtle threat. "All in good time."

"Don't give me that," growled Rose, swiftly assessing the best places to stab a seraph. (At least this was definitely the right target, she thought, as her eyes snagged on the glint of silver on her finger.) "Tell me your name. Now."

The girl's smile vanished, and she fixed her with a flat magenta stare, pursing her lips as she looked her up and down. "Why should I?" she returned, and Rose narrowed her eyes. "It doesn't matter who I am, if you're so intent on fighting first and asking questions later."

"I _did_ ask you a question, seraph," snapped Rose. "What's your name?"

The girl grinned again, and Rose readjusted her grip on her knives. This seraph had an uncanny ability to make her feel like she was looking _through_ her. "You really want to know, don't you?" she asked, tilting her head again, and her eyes narrowed in amusement. "Interesting. I'll tell you my name if you answer my questions, too. I think that's a fair trade—wouldn't you say?"

Rose hesitated; she really didn't have the right to make a decision like that for both of them. Glancing over at Dezel, she was astonished to find that he had already inclined his head in a gesture of grudging agreement. Knowing her name was more important than she thought, then.

"Excellent," remarked the girl, not waiting for Rose's input. "You may call me Symonne." She curtsied quickly, stiffly, but did not move her eyes from Dezel's face. "Now, it's my turn. What did I ever do to make you so despise me?"

Dezel's eyes widened in shock and fury. "What are you talking about?" he snarled, trembling with rage, but stayed his hand to honor their bargain. (Rose found herself impressed with his restraint.) "You turned my friend into a hellion!"

"I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding," giggled Symonne. "You see, I'm a seraph. And unless we want to sacrifice our own selves and sanity, most of us don't have the ability to create hellions." She leveled her gaze at Dezel, her sinister smile widening. " _You_ , however, are one of the lucky few. Congratulations."

"What are you talking about?" growled Dezel, and Rose glanced over at him apprehensively. If she knew one thing, it was that villains loved to talk, and a lot of time and drama could be saved if the heroes just killed them instead of obliging them like this. Was understanding so important that he'd rather give her an opportunity like this than take the revenge he'd wanted for so long?

"Don't you know your own blessing?" asked Symonne in mock surprise, raising her eyebrows. "Most seraphim project their own power outwards, defending their domain and strengthening those within it. But if they fall to the malevolence, all their anguish is turned inwards instead. It consumes them, producing those noble beasts called dragons."

"Get to the point," snapped Rose, as Dezel shifted in place. She'd much rather have attacked her, honestly, but she felt that he ought to be the one to strike first. If that meant that she had to sit through some evil exposition, so be it, but the least she could do was try to hurry her along.

"But some seraphim are… _different_ ," continued Symonne, her pace as leisurely as ever. "They keep their own power to themselves, drawing the strength out from others to uphold their domain—so any malevolence they generate latches onto their allies instead." She smirked, and Rose's eyes widened. "Those angels of death leave a trail of blood in their wake, bringing slaughter and suffering wherever they go. All because they're so afraid of a little corruption."

"Lies!" yelled Rose, but as she turned to Dezel for confirmation, his mouth was partially open and his wide eyes had glazed over, as if he had just remembered something better left forgotten.

"Oh, I don't think so," whispered Symonne, eyes glinting, and her words were still addressed to the suddenly shellshocked Dezel. "You saw your friends about to scatter like leaves in the wind. But you didn't want to say goodbye, did you?" she asked, her voice lowering still further. "You wanted to keep traveling forever. Why would they abandon you like this?" She spread her arms, grinning. "So you panicked. You got selfish. You got _jealous_. And this was the result."

Another flash of light filled Rose's vision, and she threw a hand up to shield her eyes… and by the time her sight cleared, the first thing she noticed was that it had stopped raining. They stood in Symonne's dry grayscale domain, a hellion resting before them—immobile, it seemed, and horrible in its inexplicable familiarity. Something about its aura, corrupt though it may be, reminded Rose of her childhood… of something she'd lost without ever knowing…

"L-Lafarga."

Dezel's voice was less than a whisper, and Rose only knew the word he had spoken from reading his lips, but there was no time for her to offer any kind of comfort. "It was your blessing that brought out the malevolence in your vessel's hapless fiancé," sneered Symonne, rising into the air with arms spread as if in some twisted benevolence. " _You_ created this monstrosity, and then you ran away. _You_ caused all this misery, and then you blamed me."

"The hell he did," growled Rose desperately, shoving Dezel's shoulder none too lightly in an attempt to get him to snap out of it, but he didn't even react. They'd have time to discuss this after it was over, but they had to make sure they survived that long: zoning out like this wasn't an option. "Don't listen to her!"

"So tell me, _Dezel_ , where is all this anger really coming from?" interrupted Symonne, completely ignoring Rose. "And where should it be going?" She grinned unnervingly, tilting her head. "Think carefully, now," she whispered, raising a mockingly conspiratorial hand to the side of her mouth. "There's no rush."

He froze, staring at his former friend with unseeing eyes even as the hellion shot a beam of light past them both, and Rose grasped his forearm; this was a far more immediate threat… but Dezel did not stir. "Dezel!" she exclaimed urgently, and he finally—haltingly—turned his head to look down at her. "We have to purify him!"

When it came, his single nod seemed more like a gesture of defeat than affirmation, but still he managed to stir himself to action: Rose slid out her knives as Dezel flicked out his pendulums, and they both charged.

As powerful as their armatus would be, the two of them could distract it more effectively by remaining separate: darting around the hellion's side, Rose tried to relax into the routine of combat… but her soul seemed to have fled her living body, soaring high above the battlefield to latch onto Symonne.

Thankfully, the seraph seemed content merely to watch the confrontation: for all their fighting strength, Rose wasn't sure they could handle another opponent right now. Dezel may have worked through her as an assassin, but he'd never maintained much of a separation between his emotions and his actions.

Even Rose found herself focusing more on her ally than her enemy, unable to help but be concerned about Dezel's uncharacteristic clumsiness. His battle cries were more like cries of mourning, his teeth grit, his skin pale, his blind eyes wild with desperation: clearly, he was conflicted about dueling the very friend he'd fought so hard to avenge, hellionized or otherwise.

Shuddering automatically at the memory of Zaveid's flippant lack of hesitation, Rose tried to turn her mind back to the fight at hand—slashing at semi-sentient oblivion in an attempt to make some sort of a difference. However, even as she sliced and stabbed, crushing guilt, sorrow, and fury drowned out her thoughts and senses like a rising tide of blood.

Rose gasped as she recognized the heaviness of malevolence pressing on her core like a physical force, narrowly resisting the urge to clutch her stomach. Where had this come from…? There wasn't enough time for her to focus, dodging rays of corrupted light and twisted tentacles of purest darkness. This unbearable anguish—could it be Dezel's? Then why could _she_ feel its presence, while he moved unhindered…?

Half-forgotten words from long ago tugged at the edge of Rose's mind as she rose like a phoenix, plunging her knives into the mass of malevolence. It had been when they'd killed Lunarre, she realized, as fiery feathers engulfed her briefly—an offhand comment Dezel had spoken almost to himself. Something about how she'd produced malevolence more quickly than he had anticipated… and he felt nothing…

Rolling out of the way of another attack, Rose shook her head in agitation: whether Symonne had been telling the truth about his blessing or not, it wasn't as though he had _meant_ to cause the Windriders all that misfortune. (After all, he'd been working to exact retribution on their behalf for years.) There would be time enough for considering the nature of the truth after their battle was over, and it would be in everyone's best interests for that to happen sooner rather than later…

" _Now_!" yelled Dezel, his voice almost cracking under the strain of bearing so much turmoil, and Rose nodded once in resolution. As he kept both the hellion's arms occupied, she charged straight towards its center with as fearsome a battle cry as she could muster, ready to strike harder than ever so that they could finally purify it… and then, suddenly, the ground dropped out from under her feet.

It took a few seconds of blind panic for Rose to realize that something had lifted her into the air, wrapped around her chest so tightly she could barely breathe—let alone struggle. She couldn't tell heat from cold, but she was far from numb; a prickling pain spread all over her skin, like frostbite or like the aftermath of a burn, and combined with a strange and alarming desire to slip into sleep… until fear flared in her heart, overcoming all else.

…Fear less for herself, and more for the future and for Dezel—and fear of abandoning all her friends. She still had time, and she was still conscious: there was no way she'd give up and let it all end here, especially if it meant letting her nightmare come true. **"Lukeim… Yurlin,"** she choked, as Dezel roared his own name, and her essence slid out of the hellion's grip to finally combine with her seraph as he leapt into the air.

Perhaps it was the strength of their shared blame and grief and wrath, but the blades they summoned forth from the skies seemed to blaze far brighter than usual in the gloom. As they dissolved, so too did the hellion, scattering into particles of light purer by far than the beams it had fired: the last remnants of Lafarga drifted away on the winds of purification in aimless peace, azure embers swirling in the wind, and he was finally gone.

As soon as their feet touched the ground, Dezel released Rose from the armatus; though he turned his glare up at Symonne and shifted back into a battle stance, Rose staggered as much out of shock as exhaustion. Something inside her didn't feel right, and whatever it was, armatization hadn't healed it. "We… did it," coughed Rose, almost retching, and swallowed dryly.

Turning to catch her in his arms, Dezel breathed her name and lowered her carefully to the ground, kneeling beside her. Something inside Rose physically stirred at his touch, and she grimaced: the hellion's hold had evidently not been without its consequences. The heaviness inside her had tightened, constricting her very soul this time, and Dezel's restless emotions in her head had only become more so.

There was scarcely any room for rational thought amid the maelstrom, but Rose _knew_ in what was left of her consciousness that if this kept up, this could be the end for her after all.

Searching Dezel's expression through hazy eyes, she found overwhelming remorse in his horrified stare alongside the concern she expected, and shook her head as she realized what he was thinking. There was no need for him to blame himself any further, especially since she could feel it too: "I—I'm fine," insisted Rose, though her voice sounded faint to her own ears, and she cleared her throat in vain. "Don't… don't worry about me."

"You're _not_ fine!" exclaimed Dezel, and Rose laughed nervously in response, but the sound came out a cough. So this was what malevolence felt like, eating her alive from the inside out. She couldn't tell whether it was searing heat or frigid cold; but whichever it was, an orb of it seemed to have settled heavily in her chest, spreading its corrosive energy through her body.

The sound of a bored sigh reached Rose's ears, and it took her a moment to place it—and then, to remember that Symonne still bore witness to the scene. They still had to kill her…! "History is as much a genre as comedy or tragedy, you know," she remarked, shaking her head slowly. "But all this repetition… it's so intolerably tedious."

" _Shut up_!" bellowed Dezel, jerking his head up to face her—and though she agreed wholeheartedly with his sentiment, Rose still flinched at the harsh edge to his voice. Her vision flickered momentarily, and what little breath she had hitched in her throat; this was just like Lunarre's death after all. Dezel hadn't felt the malevolence then either, but she had… and this time, she could feel herself falling over the edge.

"I'd keep that temper under control if I were you," giggled Symonne, sitting down in midair and leaning forward as though enjoying the show. "Otherwise, you're only going to kill her faster. But at least she'll die in your arms, right?" she sneered. "Just before her reawakening as a hellion."

"I-is it true?" asked Dezel, his voice hoarse and hushed and barely audible, and Rose felt an odd sense of peace at his desperate tone. Such was the strength of his concern for her condition that he seemed willing to forfeit the possibility of revenge for the sake of saving her: that, in itself, was ironically almost worth dying for…

Rose remembered his question abruptly and nodded after a brief hesitation, wincing as the mass of malevolence seemed to writhe inside her. ( _Ow_ , and _ew_.) "I—I think so," she managed. "Th-there's no time to waste. Find Sorey—he might be able to puri… purify me. _Please_ ," added Rose urgently, but Dezel only gazed back down at her, saying nothing for a long time. How could he look at her like that when he couldn't even see…?

"But it's my fault," he mumbled eventually, and his fingertips brushed her face. "It's been my fault from the beginning. First Lafarga, and now you…" He gave a long, shuddering sigh. "I can protect you from anything—except myself." He slid his hand down to rest on the center of her chest; Rose noticed somewhat hazily that he was trembling.

The shock of his direct touch seemed to stop her heart for a fraction of a second, and the sharp pain in her chest lessened to a dull throbbing ache, the malevolence flinching away from his touch: Dezel grimaced, twitching slightly as if feeling the sensation in her stead. "What are you—" choked Rose, eyes widening, and tried in vain to push his hand away from her.

"You have to let me do this," he growled through grit teeth, a tear slipping down his cheek as he pressed down insistently on the center of her chest, curling the tips of gloved fingers into her skin. "Let me, for once in my life, feel what I've done to so many others," he begged her. "To _you_. Don't make me watch you… don't…" His voice broke, and he swallowed, looking sharply away as more tears slid down his face.

"Dezel," murmured Rose, resting her hand atop his. The world would still have one Shepherd, at least, and Sorey was powerful enough that he could probably purify her before things got too bad. Maybe she'd even survive the encounter, if they struck early enough. "You have t-to—you have to let go," she insisted, as authoritatively as she could under the circumstances. "Symonne… she's using you. Your blessing. You _have_ to—"

"It's my _fault_ ," repeated Dezel in a growl, such self-loathing venom in his voice that Rose stopped dead, forgetting what she had been going to say. "So I'll fix it, and that's all there is to it." Turning his head slightly back towards her, Dezel bared his jagged teeth in something of a half-smile. "She can't use my blessing against us if I'm not around to give it."

Gently removing his hand from beneath hers, Dezel got to his feet; Rose gasped as the pain of malevolence returned suddenly, with a vengeance just like the one he had sought. "D-don't," she croaked, her eyes widening. "We're in this… together. You _said_ …!"

But Dezel cut her off with a weak and humorless chuckle, accompanied by a shake of his head, and turned his back on her. "Remember our pact," he pointed out. "If one of us falls, the other won't be long after. I'm a lost cause either way, but I can at least buy you some time in the others' domains." He hesitated, taking a shallow and shaky breath as he clenched his fists no less unsteadily. "I can… I can save you. Just for a little while, but I can still save you." Dezel bowed his head, his voice lowering to a mumble. "So I will."

"I don't think you should…" began Symonne uncertainly, rising, and alarm flashed in her deep magenta eyes.

"Hear me!" commanded Dezel to no one, and raised his hand: perhaps in response to his words or gesture, lightning struck the space around them, illuminating an enormous bubble lodged in the ground. Symonne cried out in pain, clutching at her arms as if cold: the illusory domain finally burst around them, its walls dissolving. As the first heavy drops of rain broke through, Alisha and Sorey both materialized out of nowhere some distance away; the Squire stirred faintly, while her Shepherd lay deathly still—but Rose had no breath to call to either of them.

" _This_ domain is mine," growled Dezel, turning briefly towards Symonne, but his next words were seemingly addressed to the heavens. "I won't run, and I won't hide," he called, outstretching his arms as if to embrace the sky, his expression as ferocious as Rose had ever seen it. "Come at me!" he snarled, and the winds circled the area like birds of prey—invisible at first, then picking up shape and color until roiling purple mist surrounded them all.

"Don't you dare leave me," whimpered Rose, stumbling to her feet; her core spasmed painfully, but she ignored it. That little twinge was nothing compared to what Dezel was about to feel. "I'll—I'll never forgive you!" she yelled desperately, over the shrieking winds, but Dezel merely leveled his challenging blind stare at the horizon, his arms unmoving. Like a ribbon of sinister smoke, the malevolence curved suddenly toward the center of the circle… towards _him_.

Rose might have screamed as something tore itself from her chest to join the seemingly endless stream of violet; but even if she did, she couldn't hear it. As the malevolence pierced his chest, pouring into his heart, Dezel gave a strangled cry and sank to one knee. Staring at the manifestation of five years' hatred, paralyzed by her terror, Rose thought for sure that his body and soul would both be consumed—but by the time he had absorbed the last of the malevolence, he was still alive and intact.

…Barely. Pale and clammy and visibly shaking even at this distance, Dezel clutched at his chest; dark liquid seeped from between his trembling fingers, and his breaths came swift and shallow. Rose cried out his name and took a single step forward, but he held out a gory hand to stop her, and she halted automatically.

"St—stay back," ordered Dezel, coughing, and a string of ropy blood dripped thickly from the corner of his mouth; he staggered to his feet again, swaying dangerously in place. "Run," he rasped raggedly. "Run as far and fast… as you c-c—" A convulsive swallow cut him off, and he retched, bending double: his hat fell to the ground, and the gusting winds sent it tumbling towards Rose like a part of him fleeing his body.

"I'm _not_ going to leave you!" she exclaimed furiously, stooping to scoop up his hat, and took another several frantic steps forward—but stopped short as Dezel wiped his mouth and looked up at her briefly.

"I'm so sorry… Rose," he whispered defeatedly, and gave a last, exhausted smile: Rose gasped, automatically raising her arms to shield herself, as a globe of wind expanded around him suddenly, encompassing his form. Rising upward to hover several feet above the ground, keeping Dezel in its exact center, the sphere swept up a few lingering particles of malevolence, which gradually dyed it a sickening lavender.

Clutching his head, Dezel grit his teeth as if trying not to cry out, but the pain quickly became too much for him to bear; his groan soon became a wail… and then a screech of unimaginable agony. Scales, wings, horns, claws, and fangs emerged from nowhere and—as greedily as if they were monsters unto themselves—enveloped the sphere of wind, in which Dezel's writhing silhouette was still visible.

Rose's eyes widened as a scaly shape manifested sinuously around him, and the sound of his suffering deepened into an inhuman howl. Fear possessing her body more completely than any seraph ever could, she stumbled backwards, tripping over herself and falling to the ground as the hellion's translucent body finally solidified: Dezel was gone, and in his place stood a full-fledged dragon.

Sudden tears blurred her vision, spilling to mingle with the rain, and Rose swallowed. " _Dezel_ ," she breathed helplessly, stretching out her hand towards him in the vain prayer of some sort of recognition—but she realized even as she did so that the dragon's eyes were as blind as _his_ had been; it only tossed its head back and roared to the sky. That sound, so savage and mournful, was almost more than Rose could bear, and she could no longer suppress a sob.

"Impossible," gasped Symonne, backing up and shaking her head. "Why would he…" As the end of the sentence trailed off into nothingness, her eyes narrowed and locked with Rose's, full of guarded curiosity—and then she vanished, dissolving just like her domain. But Rose was too numb to care, one way or the other; she only gazed hopelessly back up at the _thing_ that used to be Dezel.

"Rose!" cried a familiar voice, and she was momentarily stirred out of her stupor as she recognized Alisha charging forward, somewhat more clumsily than usual. "We have to _move_!" she insisted, her bright eyes glimmering in desperation, and grasped Rose's wrist, pulling her with surprising strength toward Sorey's motionless body.

But even as she did so, the dragon spread its mighty wings; their powerful flaps knocked them both to the ground, and the hat slipped from Rose's grasp. Tearing her arm away from Alisha's grip, Rose dove sideways, flinging out a hand to keep it from tumbling away. As she sat up with an effort, she clung to it for dear life, squinting up into the rainy sky as the dragon soared away.

Gasping sharply, Rose rested a hand on her chest: a strangely tangible emptiness took root in her core, where the malevolence had festered before, as though the dragon had taken something away from her. Staring dully down at Dezel's hat, she wondered distantly what would become of a Shepherd whose Prime Lord had been hellionized. The others' domains might keep her intact for a little while, as Dezel had told her such a short time ago, but she knew in her heart that it wouldn't be long.

Perhaps a minute passed in this way; Rose hardly remembered to breathe. She only realized that Alisha had risen to stand before her, offering her hand, after the Squire bent down to pull her to her feet half against her will, arranging Rose's arm around her shoulders and supporting her all the way to Sorey's side. As they approached, the seraphim emerged from the Shepherd's body to greet them; Rose took in their expressions through tear-filled eyes, but felt nothing.

Anxious relief at their safety shone in Lailah's eyes, while Zaveid was more serious than Rose had ever seen him, staring at the mountainous horizon over which the dragon had disappeared. Mikleo, meanwhile, knelt at Sorey's side, scowling in anxious concentration as he cast a healing arte—and Edna seemed to be crying behind her umbrella.

Rose's eyes refused to focus, and she found herself unable to tell whether Sorey was breathing. "Is he…" she began hoarsely, addressing Mikleo, but even as she said it, the Shepherd stirred. Rose and Alisha exhaled sharply in relieved simultaneity, kneeling at each of his shoulders; Mikleo offered an indistinct complaint as the Squire dislodged him from his place.

Even as the mutter left his mouth, Sorey sat bolt upright. "You guys!" he exclaimed, looking between the two of them, but grimaced and fell backwards again: Alisha moved to catch and support him from behind, and Mikleo crept cautiously back to Sorey's shoulder. "I'm so glad you're all—safe," he breathed, gazing at everyone in turn, but Rose could not meet his eyes.

Alisha nodded somewhat hesitantly, glancing over at Rose. She looked away, gritting her teeth as her heart pulsed painfully; emptiness like this shouldn't hurt so much. Several silent seconds passed before the thought crossed her mind that this sensation had nothing to do with malevolence: it was only ordinary shock and sorrow, spreading slowly through her body like poison.

But nothing Rose felt inside could ever hurt as much as Sorey's next words, his eyes catching on the top hat resting peacefully in Rose's lap: "Wait," he frowned, his eyes wide and innocent, and she choked back another sob. "Where's Dezel?"

* * *

 _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I. AM. SO. SORRY. You have no idea how many tears I've shed over this chapter, so if it's any consolation, it's not like I'm laughing at your expense. Either way, this story certainly isn't over, but I can't tell you anything about where it's going. I'm so sorry! I'm sorry! *hides face and cowers*_

… _If it's not too much to ask after all I've done to you, I put a link to an appropriate requiem on my profile… which also happens to be the song referenced in last chapter's title… so yeah._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Are you sure about that?_

 _ **Anony-moose:**_ _I sincerely hope you catch up *after* I post another chapter, because this would be a hell of a time for you to have to start waiting for updates… Anyway, thank you so much for all the compliments. I guess I got in the bad habit of assuming character interaction is only meaningful if something is "happening", so it's nice to be reassured once more that this is not the case._

 _ **MistralisLea:**_ _Thank you for the compliments! Here's your next chapter, at any rate, although I wish it could be a little less… dark._

 _ **ViolettaXYZ:**_ _Well, I suppose "reference" wasn't a good word… more like I worked with the same concept of personal hells. And Zelos/Sheena is my OTP forever, so of all the things to remember from Symphonia, that's about the best there is. I actually took some inspiration from Zelos when characterizing Zaveid._


	43. Chapter 42: The Fall Before the Climb

Dezel was… gone.

Rose jerked her head aside, her throat too tight to speak, and a faint cold tingling seized her entire body, like lightning had struck her and turned her to stone. Let someone else tell Sorey the news; she could barely think straight, let alone explain. "W-well, um," began Alisha awkwardly, her voice so soft Rose could barely hear it over the mournful wind.

"What… happened…?" asked Sorey cautiously, brokenly, and Rose could tell he only suspected what he thought was the worst: death. She sniffled on a sharp inhalation, exhaling through her mouth and bowing her head. Death would have been a blessing in comparison. _I promise I won't throw my life away_ , his voice whispered in her mind. _Happy_?

He'd honored his promise, suffering worse than death for Rose's sake, but that hardly made her feel any better. "N-n-no," she mumbled, an almost incoherent response more to his lingering presence in her head than to anyone else, and curled in on herself still further, pressing her lips to his hat. No. _No_. The single word expanded to fill her soul, the only thought in her mind.

Rose barely noticed Alisha's hesitation, her dull and desperate glances around her comrades as if hoping someone else would tell Sorey the news, but even Lailah remained silent—so the Squire sighed in sorrowful resignation. In a way, it might be best coming from her: she'd had the least emotional attachment to Dezel, from what Rose could tell. "He… uh," continued Alisha, swallowing, and could not meet Sorey's eyes. "He turned into… a d-dragon."

Sorey stared at her in horror, but it was Zaveid's molten orange gaze that caught Rose's attention as it rested on her face, and her tears. Concerned, yes, but beyond that, weighed down with something heavier than sorrow—heavier than any burden Rose had ever borne in her life. Even this one.

It was more than she could stand when the others turned to look at her as well; the stark reality of the situation, brought on by the veiled intensity in their eyes, pressed down on Rose's chest like malevolence so that she could barely breathe. She staggered to her feet shakily, clutching Dezel's hat to her chest, and scowled up at the stormy sky.

Before she even knew what she was doing, Rose found herself running—from her friends, from the truth, even from herself. Only that morning, she'd been comfortably arranged in Dezel's lap, and their friends had been teasing them and matchmaking. Even now, they all plainly thought they'd had some sort of relationship! How dare they look at her like that? How _dare_ they pity her?! Nothing had happened between them—nothing, _nothing_ —because she had been too stupid to make it so!

Rose had thought, once, that because she was a human and Dezel was a seraph, that it would be better for her to remain silent in the hopes her heart would stop skipping so many beats. Even after she had resigned herself to falling, she had wanted to wait until they had time to watch the sunset. Now, Dezel would never see another sunset, and without him, there might never _be_ another sunset to see.

Rose felt so full of regrets she almost wanted to throw up, and once she finally plodded to an exhausted halt at the top of a cliff, she half thought she might. But instead, it was only her voice that welled up so bitterly in her throat, and she hurled it at the sky with all the force she could muster.

" _You said you'd be there to put me back together again_!" screamed Rose to no one; the wind picked up at her words, scattering them to the corners of the earth, but she knew better than to think Dezel was capable of listening anymore. " _YOU SAID_ …!" But she could not finish the sentence, and abandoned it halfway, just like he had abandoned her; her words wouldn't change anything. The world was ending, same as ever, and Rose just wanted to go home. Home, to the Windriders, and to Dezel.

As she stood at the edge, fists clenched, Rose became suddenly conscious of approaching footsteps. Whirling around, she stumbled backward before she could get a good look at the intruder… and then swayed, wavering in place, as the soft ground gave way beneath her feet. Throwing Dezel's hat forward for the sake of equilibrium, she tilted backward, flailing her arms in a desperate attempt to keep her balance—but a pair of cords wrapped around her wrists, and someone strong reeled them in.

It wasn't… it _couldn't_ be…

…No. Zaveid. "Wh-wh-what do you want?" sobbed Rose, pounding her fists and forearms weakly against his bare chest as he gripped her shoulders with fingers like iron. She struggled valiantly, but he didn't let her go: recognizing her helplessness, she began crying in earnest, bowing her head. At her gesture of defeat, Zaveid finally retracted his pendulums, but he clasped her in a loose embrace before she could put any distance between them.

"Easy," he told her in a low voice rumbling like soft thunder. He was no Dezel, but his touch was still strangely comforting as he traced slow circles on her shoulderblade, and he didn't seem to care that at least a year's worth of tears were soaking into his skin. "Easy. I'm just here to make sure you're still alive."

Rose's ragged inhalation hitched in her throat, and she coughed convulsively, almost retching—but Zaveid didn't so much as twitch away from her. "It… it's only a m-matter of time before I'm n-not," she rasped brokenly, pressing her face into his skin to muffle her voice. Maybe if she couldn't hear herself speak, her words wouldn't be so true. "Y-your domains can't k-keep me s-safe forever. Our pact n-n-never broke, and… dragons c-can't be purified."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," responded Zaveid thoughtfully, and Rose tilted her head back to stare up at him searchingly, another few tears streaking down her face. "Even Shepherds have trouble subduing dragons, and it's a lot easier to kill them than to try purifying them. It would take a substantial amount of energy to purge malevolence on that scale—no pun intended," he added as an afterthought; Rose winced as he almost laughed anyway. "And nobody's ever been willing to risk their life trying."

"Wh-why are you telling me… all th-this?" asked Rose warily. Maintaining a hope that unlikely would be more detrimental to her sanity than accepting the inescapable truth. In fact, among all the emotions lingering in her tattered heart, she harbored no small amount of resentment towards Dezel. Rose would hellionize all the same in the end; he'd only forced her to reach her end more slowly, so she'd have time to be afraid. How could he _do_ that to her…?

Zaveid sighed, as though the answer was more complex than she could grasp—and in all likelihood, he was right. "I'm just saying, don't give up hope just yet," he replied, and Rose could hear in his tone that he knew her thoughts. "The situation is dire enough as is without you getting all malevolent on us before your time. You don't want Dezel's sacrifice to go to waste, do you?" he added.

Shaking her head jerkily, Rose buried her face in his chest again as Zaveid continued. "He's bought you at least a little more time, so you oughta use it wisely. Besides," he added, a bittersweet grin in his voice, "if there _is_ a way to purify him, it won't be any use if he comes home to a hellionized vessel. Just imagine how pissed he'd be that we let you get corrupted."

Rose braved a watery smile; yes, that did sound like Dezel. She felt momentarily sorry for daring to think that he'd intended to torture her after all he'd done to save her, and closed her eyes again. "Zaveid," she mumbled into his skin. "Thank y—"

"Hey, hey, watch your mouth," hissed Zaveid, taking her shoulders and moving her forcibly back; Rose blinked in confusion until she realized that he meant it in a literal sense, given that her lips had been brushing his bare chest as she spoke. "Are you trying to get me killed?" added Zaveid, but there was less of a joking edge to his voice than she anticipated; she frowned at his seriousness, her muscles stiff from prolonged scowling. "If Dezel ever hears that the woman he loves was in my arms like that, he really is going to strangle me next time. Save those lips for him, got it?"

Rose stared at him blankly, her heart skipping a beat, and she felt fainter still. The woman he…? "He makes me do _everything_ for him, doesn't he," snorted Zaveid, stepping back from her and crossing his arms. "And stop acting like it's a surprise," he ordered, shaking his head. "You two have been circling one another for as long as I've been with you, and then some. Do you really think a guy like him would turn into a dragon over a _vessel_?"

"He… he couldn't break the pact," faltered Rose feebly, turning red and glancing away. This was a _fine_ time to be embarrassed; nothing had come of it, and now, nothing ever would. She'd have preferred to be angry; after all, that had been one of the reasons she ran. Still, as someone finally dared to speak the words instead of making silent implications, she found that her blush was as automatic as her tears.

Zaveid rolled his eyes. "I don't know why you're even trying to make excuses like that," he told her, a bite of impatience in his voice. "If you think denial is going to ease the pain, you've got another think coming. Took me a few centuries to learn that lesson," he added. "But you don't have that long, so I figured I'd dish it out for free. Stage of grief though it may be, we don't have time for that right now."

Rose inclined her head, well aware that mourning was a luxury. "I—" she began, but a sudden swallow cut her off, so she nodded emphatically as Zaveid stooped to pick up Dezel's hat. "I understand," she continued as he straightened up, but rather than return it to her, he instead straightened up and twirled it onto his own head with a flourish. Rose frowned, but couldn't bring herself to step forward and snatch it away: oddly, it seemed to suit him.

Zaveid gave a skeptical hum, then shrugged and rested his fingertips lightly on her shoulderblade. "Good," he told her, letting out a long sigh as if in relief—though it sounded too tense for either of them to really relax. "Then let's get back to the others before they start worrying they lost you, too."

Rose almost flinched at the realization that she hadn't thought of their situation like that. How could she have forgotten all about the friends for whom she had been so worried such a short time ago, especially for such selfish reasons? "S-sorry," she mumbled, ducking her head—but Zaveid only smiled his reassurance, or perhaps his forgiveness, and they walked on.

* * *

Rose knew from the beginning that this night would be among the longest in her memory. She was right, even if it was the silence and not the sleeplessness that seeped into her soul.

By the time Rose and Zaveid had returned to their friends, Alisha had discovered the fates of her countrymen in the last room of the ruins. They'd all worked together in solemn silence to build a pyre for the fallen Hylanders outside… but after watching the grisly flames leap skyward, they hadn't been able to bring themselves to build a fire in the ruins.

As they sat there in the darkness and the quiet, no one seemed to know what to say, and Rose didn't blame them. They'd lost a comrade in a way worse than death, and none of them had quite accepted that as the reality just yet. Ever since Zaveid had calmed her down, Rose had been too tired to form coherent thoughts, let alone consider the future: the others would have to figure out their new course of action without her input.

Fortunately, Zaveid took it upon himself to broach the subject first, as he let out a long and strangled sigh. "So, now what?" he asked, addressing no one in particular. "Two Shepherds won't do much good against Maotelus if one of them lost her Prime Lord, so we need another plan, and quick. Heading into our final battle isn't an option anymore."

There was a brief pause before Sorey spoke. "I've been thinking about that," he confessed. "And I still don't know whether it's possible to purify dragons or not, but one way or another, we need to find Dezel." There was a rustle as he probably shook his head, and Rose wished she could see Edna's expression. "I'm just trying to figure out…"

"Where he went," finished Mikleo, as Sorey trailed off thoughtfully. "We know he flew east, but this is as far west as west goes—so really, he could have gone anywhere."

"D-did he think of someplace as home?" suggested Edna haltingly, her voice hoarse and soft almost to the point of submissiveness. She'd been among the least talkative since the incident, mostly because she had yet to calm down enough to do so, and Rose found herself surprised to hear her voice. "M-maybe he didn't recognize his surroundings, so he flew somewhere he felt was more familiar…"

"No offense, Edna," responded Mikleo, his voice cautious and unusually considerate as he addressed his tormentor, "but as great as that would be, it doesn't exactly sound likely. Don't you lose your mind if you turn into a dragon? I-isn't that kind of the point…? Oh no," he added in a mutter to himself, as Edna sniffled ominously.

But, rather than lapse back into a tantrum, she persevered (drowning out what sounded like an apology from Mikleo). "E-eventually," responded Edna stiffly. "Eizen was confused, after it h-happened to him. I don't think he remembered who I was, but it felt like he was still a—a seraph, stuck in a dragon's body. Then… he started slipping." She paused to swallow painfully. "H-he listened when I told him to stop, at—at first, but as the decades passed…"

Edna's voice finally cracked and broke, and she made no effort to continue: Lailah graciously changed the subject, if only a little, before anyone could accidentally distress her further. "So seraphim may retain a residual sense of reason for some time after they're corrupted," she murmured. "Perhaps we could make use of that."

"Well, if he flew somewhere he thinks of as home, at least that rules out Plitzerback Wetland," put in Zaveid, shaking his head—a note of rueful laughter in his voice. "I don't know how much time we have, but it's a safe bet we don't have enough to go running all the way to the other end of Glenwood. Wherever Dezel chose, we better hope he's close."

Though the darkness concealed the others' expressions, Rose felt that an answer was expected of her, as Dezel's vessel. _Former_ vessel, she amended to herself. (Damn it.) "I—I don't know," she faltered. "The only place he ever mentioned from his past is… where he found me. Glaivend Basin," she explained. "The Windriders spent a lot of time there, traveling between the countries."

"But Glaivend Basin has become a battlefield," gasped Lailah, her voice slightly muffled, as if she'd pressed her willowy fingers to her lips. "All that malevolence might drive him to madness more quickly than usual."

"Then let's head there first thing in the morning," suggested Sorey, his voice steely in resolution. "I understand that we can't afford to waste any time," he added firmly as Zaveid voiced an unexpected complaint, "but we can't afford to overexert ourselves after a day like this, either. It's better if we rest now, and set out early tomorrow. That way, we can be ready for anything."

"I'll take the first watch," muttered Rose. Drained as she was, she probably wouldn't be able to sleep without Dezel to mitigate the ring-induced insomnia. Besides, now that she was too numb from shock and exhaustion to care about anything anymore, she actually dreaded recovering enough energy to feel the loss eating away at her heart like acid.

"Rose, you need rest more than any of us," protested Alisha, and the others murmured their assent. " _I'll_ sit vigil first," she added, with all the authority of her station, and Rose was powerless to argue with the princess. "You've had a longer day than all the rest of us combined."

"I… wouldn't say that," mumbled Rose, remembering the seraphim's illusory trials, but almost choked on an ill-timed yawn. Much as she hated to admit it, Alisha was at least partially right: she _was_ exhausted, almost to the point of delirium. Even if she didn't think she'd be able to sleep, she'd be useless as a guard—so really, she may as well try. "Fine," added Rose finally, lying down reluctantly, but didn't even have the strength to be spiteful. "Good night."

"Good night, Rose," responded Alisha, her voice accompanied by a few other murmurs of similar nature, but the Squire hesitated. "And… I'm sorry," she added, her voice so quiet she could barely hear it.

"Me too," mumbled Rose, and closed her eyes. Readjusting her hands onto her stomach, she found herself twisting the ring on her finger, icy as ever. Perhaps she'd be able to sleep through the night if she used the ring's power against itself, she realized with a jolt, as she recalled how it had granted her immunity to Symonne's illusions. Maybe it could grant her immunity to the seraph's sleep disruption as well.

Heat sparked through the ring even as the thought crossed her mind, and Rose frowned; she hadn't realized she was concentrating so hard. Or perhaps she didn't _need_ to focus so intently this time, she thought… and though she knew she ought to have felt frightened at the prospects of becoming accustomed to using the ring, she instead experienced a twisted delight in the idea of draining Symonne's strength in secret.

For the first time, Rose fully understood how the lust for retribution could have driven Dezel for so long, and forgiveness had never come so easily as in that moment. It was as if he had given her the ghost of his unfulfilled vengeance when he vanished, added to her own feelings to create a dysfunctional and disproportionate desire. She hadn't even noticed it at first, hidden like embers among the kindling of grief and pain… but now, it consumed her like she lay on a pyre of her own.

Grinning into the darkness, Rose vowed to herself that she would take Symonne down if it was the last thing she did. She was living on borrowed time anyway, so if that time ran out, she may as well take a certain seraph with her: "Good night, Symonne," growled Rose into empty darkness, as quietly as she could so as not to disturb the others. "I hope your bones are as weary as mine."

* * *

… _Here's a shorter chapter for resolution's sake, with its title drawn from more Panic! at the Disco lyrics ("C'mon", a collaboration with fun.). I have to admit, I wasn't expecting an explosion of reviews this soon; I never knew this many of you kept up with the story so religiously. Also… *checks favs and follows* I guess I haven't lost anyone yet…? I figured I'd lose at least a few of you after that…_

 _ **PoeticShadows:**_ _Oh, gods. I sincerely apologize for posting a chapter like that at a time like this; I've had cats all my life, so I know what it's like to lose them. The most I can hope is that this gave you another outlet for those emotions. Anyhow, I'm unbelievably flattered that you've read this four times! Thank you so much for all the compliments in spite of the fact that I just ripped your heart out—and by the way, there is absolutely no need to apologize for waiting till you feel comfortable leaving a comment._

 _ **MistralisLea:**_ _Heh, I'll take admiration over hatred any day. Thank you._

 _ **graveMonera:**_ _Yes, he pulled the malevolence from his surroundings. Rose's corruption was only a small part of that._

 _ **Ned:**_ _Because the plot led me here, beat me up, and robbed me, unfortunately._

 _ **ViolettaXYZ:**_ _I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!_

 _ **linake11:**_ _*winces* I've had that chapter mostly written since December, so I've had a bit of time to get used to it, but it still hurts me too._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _You cheater, you! But at least it helped you prepare yourself, at least till I pulled the rug out from under you with that song. Glad it had the effect it was supposed to._

 _ **Anony-moose:**_ _*reads all these sad reviews from last chapter* *reads your review from halfway to this point* …Huh. Even though you won't read this for a little while, your enthusiasm is a welcome contrast from all the shock and grief I brought about from the last chapter. (I look forward to seeing your own reaction after you get this far.) Incidentally, I did write an extremely unhealthy Dezel/Rose oneshot exploring the abuse of his seraphic privileges, but I like writing them this way a bit more._

 _ **The Final Conduit:**_ _…Yes._

 _ **Arthur Moebius:**_ _*adjusts Zaveid bracelets* Whoa there, fella. You might wanna slow down with the assumptions. I can't either confirm or deny any of that for plot reasons, but I'd just like to say that if you're still basing what is and isn't possible on the (extremely limited) game lore after reading over forty chapters of an_ _ **AU**_ _fanfiction, you miiiight wanna readjust your stance a smidge._

 _ **Fangs of Lightning:**_ _*touches fingers together* I'd have put a warning at the top if I hadn't thought it'd cheapen the impact. I'm glad you could see the beauty amid the pain, at least._

 ** _NaotoShirogane:_** _*pats on back* There, there…_


	44. Chapter 43: The Dawn Will Come

As it turned out, the only way to stop herself from waking was to dream.

Each time Rose could feel herself slipping out of sleep, the ring calling her back to consciousness, she drew forth its powers to lose herself in illusions. She didn't have the strength to wrench control of those dreams from Symonne's hands, but whatever tortures the seraph devised for her in slumber could not be worse than the temporary insanity induced by insomnia.

Sure enough, the visions she received over the next few nights were only hollow shades of nightmares: Symonne clearly knew better than to think intimidation could work on such a broken soul. Rather than try to frighten her, she seemed to be trying to hasten the hellionization process by making Rose hate her even more. (Little did she know that wasn't possible either.)

"Are you still having those nightmares?" asked Sorey's voice softly, stirring her out of uneasy rest, and Rose's eyes fluttered reluctantly open to focus on her fellow Shepherd and his Squire standing a few respectful feet away. She'd fallen asleep under the very tree beneath which Dezel had held her only a few days ago, but the memory of his warmth all around her hadn't made her dreams any better. Still, at least the ring didn't feel so cold anymore.

Rose gave a brusque dip of her head by way of affirmative. "Yeah," she told them, and only then remembered to make an effort at reassurance. "But don't worry so much, okay?" she asked, gazing between them. "Nothing can scare me after everything I've been through. I'm fine."

Sorey braved a shaky smile, but Alisha raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You _will_ be, yes, but you're not fine now," she replied matter-of-factly, crossing her arms and examining her with a piercing and perceptive green gaze; Rose glowered at her, and Sorey shot a reproving glance in Alisha's direction. "Please, tell us how we can help," she persisted. "You know we're more than willing."

"You can't," returned Rose immediately, rubbing her forehead in exhausted exasperation. She may have hated thinking, but there was little else she could do, and she had already come to the conclusion that she was beyond help at this point. "The most you can do is purify me when the malevolence takes me over." Rose had already made her peace with her inevitable demise: all that remained was to take Symonne with her somehow.

"You're _not_ going to turn into a hellion, Rose," insisted Sorey, a fiercely protective light burning in his eyes. Rose gave a bitter smile in response; he really believed that, didn't he? That stubborn naïvete was certainly a part of what she loved about him—but damn, it made it hard for her to feel justified in her cynicism sometimes. "Dezel isn't dead," he insisted, as though that was a valid reason.

"He _will_ be," snapped Rose, as fiercely as she dared, before he could continue. "Push comes to shove, we'll have to kill him—and that'll be the end of me, too," she added, getting to her feet and stretching. Zaveid may have hinted at another solution of some kind, but if she got her hopes up and they had to kill him in the end, she'd never be able to convince herself to do what must be done.

Sorey bowed his head and closed his eyes, his expression gentle as ever yet as pained as Rose had seen it. "I know," he mumbled, so quietly that Rose could barely hear him, and she blinked at him in astonishment as he turned aside and trudged away. If Sorey was willing to even consider the possibility that there might not be a way to save everyone, he was maturing faster than she'd thought.

Alisha gazed after him as he disappeared into the next clearing, then sighed as she turned back to Rose. "Sorey is a deep person, you know," she murmured, shaking her head slowly. "He's impulsive and optimistic, true, but he's been considering what we might have to do in Glaivend Basin as much as any of the rest of us. He's just… gotten better at hiding it."

"Like Prime Lord, like Shepherd," murmured Rose, half to herself. Sorey had learned to set aside his feelings just like Lailah, maintaining a mask for the sake of keeping his friends' morale from going into a tailspin. How different he was from the Sorey she had saved: now _she_ was the one unable to disentangle her emotions from her actions, and he was the one holding everyone else together through the storm. His steadfast determination and dedication to writing his wrongs was truly inspiring.

Alisha smiled somewhat sadly, smoothing down her tunic with a dainty but unconscious motion of her hand, and Rose shivered automatically at the memory of blackened roses emblazoned on her skin—a layer between them that could never be forgotten or fully removed. Yet Alisha had still offered to help her in her hour of need, even after Rose had pushed her away. Which of them had changed more since their initial conflict…?

"Remember when you hated me?" asked Rose, the sentence tumbling from her mouth before she could stop it. "I bet you never thought you'd be offering to help me out like this."

At first, Alisha frowned in confusion—but her eyes lit up in understanding a moment later, and she bowed her head, running her hand once more restlessly along the roses. "I… I never hated you," she responded finally. "This wasn't your fault. I've always known that. I just didn't want to believe it, at first." And, though her words came slowly, they resonated with the truth.

"Do you know why I didn't want to go with you, in the beginning?" added Alisha after a brief hesitation. "It wasn't only because of—of _him_. Lunarre," she amended quickly, her voice turning momentarily steely as she forced herself to say the name. "I thought you were strong enough to help Sorey on your own. I thought my people needed me, not the Shepherd. Then… you made me realize that my people are a part of a world that needs me more."

Rose raised her eyebrows. "I… _made_ you realize?" she repeated.

"In a way, you saved my life," confessed Alisha, letting out a long breath. "Sorey never would have pushed me to come with you, like you did. I'd have been content to live out the rest of my life in the capital as a useless princess, but—" She stopped herself short, her eyes clouding over as they focused on the ring. "Did you ever hear about our… confrontation… with Lady Maltran?" asked Alisha softly, after a small pause.

Rose shook her head. "Sorey didn't want to talk to me about it, when I asked," she told her apprehensively. "He told me it was your story to tell, if you ever felt like telling it, and he didn't want to say the wrong thing or whatever. You know how he is about stuff like that."

Alisha blinked in apparent surprise. "Well… when we met with her, she told us… she'd encouraged the rumors that the Shepherd had kidnapped me," she explained haltingly. "Lady Maltran would have done anything to restart the war. If I'd have remained in the manor instead of accompanying you…" Alisha swallowed, then took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "She might even have killed me and blamed the Shepherd for my death instead of my abduction."

"But you still call her Lady," muttered Rose. Not that she didn't understand the kind of automatic loyalty that comes with looking up to someone since childhood, but she'd never been one for lofty titles of respect in the first place, let alone ones granted to holier-than-thou hellions.

"Yes, I still call her Lady," responded Alisha wearily, and there was no trace of defensiveness in her voice; only sorrow. "I—I killed her, you know," she burst out, as if the words had been stuck in her throat ever since that day. "She forced my hand. Literally. She took my spear and… and used it to…" Alisha's voice shook and died, and she grit her teeth, her hands curling themselves into fists as she struggled to spit out the last few words.

…She couldn't do it. Rose didn't blame her. "I'm proud of you, Alisha," she told her, as gently as she could, and offered a wan smile as the princess glanced up in astonishment. "Even if you didn't mean to. Even if you had no choice. I'm proud of you for living through what had to be done."

"Th-thanks," stammered Alisha, not meeting Rose's eyes, but there was a faint and guarded question in her tone: _what was her ulterior motive_? Rose's smile widened slightly, ruefully, at the princess's uncommon perceptiveness. Of course she wouldn't accept a compliment like that without wondering why she'd offered it.

"There was no way to save her," Rose told Alisha, choosing her words very carefully. "If she was so set on dying she'd make you kill her, there was no way you could have forced her to survive. I can count the number of times I've said this on one hand, but… Zaveid is right," continued Rose. "You can't save everyone. Sometimes it's better if you don't try."

Alisha stared at her, an indecipherable but intense emotion sparking to life in her eyes as she searched Rose's expression. "Rose," she growled, her voice turning flinty. "Don't even think about it."

"Oh, I'm not talking about myself," Rose assured her—though even as she spoke, she wondered how true that really was. "I just mean… if there's no way to save Dezel, I want to be the one to strike the blow that will kill us both. You get it, right?" she pressed, when Alisha's mouth only tightened grimly. "He'd want it to be me. Just like Maltran chose you."

Bowing her head, Alisha clasped her hands before her. "I understand," she sighed eventually, returning her gaze to Rose's face. "But I can't guarantee the others will," she added, narrowing her eyes as she turned to walk away. "You'll have to tell them yourself. I hope it'll never come to that."

Rose grinned at her calm acceptance of this potential necessity, and the genuine gesture felt strange on her mouth after so many days of misery. "Thanks," she told the princess's retreating back. "And good morning, by the way," she added, raising her voice slightly.

Alisha halted, then glanced back at Rose over her shoulder. "If there's anything any of us can do for you in the meantime, don't hesitate to ask," she murmured, quietly enough that Rose had to take a few steps forward to hear her clearly. "We're your friends, and we'll always be here for you."

 _Always_ , thought Rose regretfully, _always_ seemed to end so soon.

* * *

Several more fitful nights passed swiftly by, and though Rose had initially thought that suffering through Symonne's imitation nightmares would be more bearable than a lack of sleep altogether, she soon came to second-guess that assumption.

Though she was far from frightened, witnessing her friends' deaths over and over again made Rose angrier than she ever would have thought possible—until finally, the night before they would arrive at Glaivend Basin, she found herself reaching for the ring even in her sleep. The force of her grief and fury lent her strength, and even in the dream she felt the ring spark on her finger, Symonne's raw power jolting through her body like ice or fire or lightning.

The gruesome scene shuddered to a halt, interrupted by a gasp and a soft sort of scream. Rose thought at first that the sounds of pain had come from herself, at the burst of searing heat around her finger (intense enough for her eyes to sting and stream with sudden tears)—but as the scene flickered and finally faded all around her, she recognized with a burst of savage triumph that it had been Symonne's voice.

Rose found herself standing alone in complete darkness, her every muscle aching from the exertion of overpowering a seraph, and her head pounding painfully so that she could barely think. Inhaling and exhaling deeply as much to calm herself as to catch her breath, she discovered that the ring had not fully cooled down. Was she still using its power, then…?

As if the thought had triggered something, the invisible surface beneath her feet rippled like an earthquake before shaping itself into a faint trail more than a little overgrown with grass. Solidifying her stance to regain her equilibrium as the ground stabilized under her, Rose squinted at the pastoral scene unfolding all around as the clouds of darkness receded, driven back by a gale she could not feel.

Glancing around suspiciously, she took a few tentative steps along the path into a new dream, marveling at the beauty of her surroundings despite herself. How different these placid hills were from the world of blood and stone in which she had been trapped mere moments before! The first colors painted the horizon in captivating colors, and the stars above her were just beginning to fade, but something about this place seemed… off.

As the light scent of wildflowers wreathed around her, carried along by a gentle breeze, Rose realized as if awakening that the wind was the only sound she could discern. No birds sang; no insects hummed; even the earth itself seemed to be holding its breath somehow. Rose was utterly alone in a hollow shell of a world, and that was more terrifying than any nightmare the ring ever could have given her.

She sank to the ground as if in the hopes that she would be able to feel the pulse of the planet, but it remained as still as the rest of the world, nothing more than a corpse. Her heart raced as if to make up for the lack of life elsewhere, and Rose buried her face in her knees, hugging herself. At least she'd _known_ why she'd been having the nightmares; why she was suddenly sitting in a lifeless paradise was beyond her.

"Beautiful, isn't it," remarked a somewhat sardonic voice from beside Rose: heart pounding, she turned her head abruptly to find Symonne sitting next to her, a few feet away. "In a… _dead_ sort of way."

"What are you doing here?" demanded Rose, but she couldn't muster enough strength to sound very intimidating after the ordeal she'd just been through. The rage that she had summoned from within to overpower Symonne had evaporated along with the dream; now, she felt only a profound, soul-deep weariness. Symonne must have felt it too, as her skin was paler and her eyes duller even than usual, and her hair hung loose and unkempt halfway down her back.

"I've been trying to show you the consequences of resistance in ways even a small-minded human such as yourself could understand," shrugged Symonne. Evidently, despite her frail appearance, she was no more or less interested in civility than usual—though Rose could sense no real hatred behind her words. "It seems I underestimated your ability to grasp the bigger picture."

"The bigger picture?" repeated Rose, bemused, and looked around. It was true that this had more of an impact on her than the nightmares ever could for reasons she still couldn't quite explain to herself, but if Symonne was trying to show her she was alone, Rose knew for a _fact_ that it wasn't true.

Symonne glanced at her out the corner of her eye. "Maybe I spoke too soon," she returned, almost scornfully. _"This_ is what you're fighting for, girl. You see, malevolence is a part of human nature," she continued, returning her gaze to the sky. "For as long as there are humans to generate malevolence, a pure world cannot exist. Therefore, what you see before you is an empty world—without malevolence, but also without life."

"And I suppose you're going to tell me you're fighting to save the world," snapped Rose, cracking her knuckles in a threat they both knew to be idle: she was too exhausted, even in a dream, to throw any kind of punch. "You and your boss are a hell of a lot closer to destroying humanity than we are, and you have the nerve to tell me this is what _I'm_ fighting for?"

Symonne gave a nonchalant shrug. "It's survival of the fittest," she told her. "Humans produce malevolence. Malevolence breeds hellions. The humans strong enough to weather the storm survive to raise another generation, while the hellions weed out the weak of will." She smiled in cruel reminiscence. "It's been like that for thousands of years."

"And that changes now," growled Rose. "Besides, seraphim can become hellions too," she added, glaring through her headache, and a new surge of anger scalded the backs of her eyes. It had been Symonne's fault that Dezel had transformed into a dragon: how _dare_ she neglect to acknowledge his sacrifice!

"It's true that seraphim too can generate malevolence," returned Symonne, tilting her head to the side in aggravatingly casual contemplation, "but the actions of humans are what cause them to succumb." She turned her face slowly towards Rose, a sinister smile playing about her lips, and Rose returned her stare in shock and indignation. Was she saying this was _her_ fault…? "Can you deny it?"

"Dezel didn't—" began Rose furiously, but cut herself off. She didn't have the advantage of being a heartless bitch like Symonne, so she'd have to at least try to filter the emotion out of her response. If worst came to worst, and she couldn't think of a good counterargument, she'd duel her to the death instead.

Symonne laughed. "It was only his ridiculous infatuation with you that caused him to transform," she pointed out, before Rose could gather her thoughts. "Given the nature of his blessing, he specifically made the choice to become a hellion rather than see you so afflicted. A noble sacrifice, it would seem," she added patronizingly, and Rose grit her teeth. "But wouldn't it have been more merciful for him to have killed you then and there? Instead, he's forced your hand. Now you have to kill yourself as well as him."

" _Shut up_!" shrieked Rose, the heat of the moment incinerating all hope of thinking rationally. To hell with the consequences; this was not her fault, and this was _not_ Dezel's fault—and if she had to hellionize to make Symonne understand, so be it.

"I'm only trying to help you see the truth," returned the seraph, fluttering her eyelashes in mock innocence. "I thought maybe there was some hope for you, but… like seraph, like vessel, I suppose." Getting to her feet, Symonne stretched luxuriously, tossing Rose an amused sideways glance. "He blinded himself too, rather than look at reality, and then blamed me for it. Just as you are now."

" _Lies_ ," managed Rose through grit teeth, her fists clenched and her fingernails digging into her palms so hard it hurt… but still, she did not awaken. So much for _pinch me, I'm dreaming_.

"Is that so," remarked Symonne, grinning. "Tell me, by wearing that ring, are you not holding me to a pact we never agreed upon—abusing my powers against my will? And don't you _enjoy_ it? Yes, you're well on your way to becoming a hellion already," she purred, before Rose could respond. "And a fine one you'll make, too."

The sun broke over the horizon and flooded Rose's vision like tears, and her gaze snagged on its brilliance, drinking in the light even as it stung her eyes. (How long had it been since she'd seen the dawn?) "Oh, but there's no need to worry," giggled Symonne, vanishing into thin air. "You'll have _fallen_ for a worthy cause."

The earth opened up beneath Rose in time with Symonne's emphasis, and the shadows devoured her: she jerked awake on the dark and rainy hillside, eerily similar to the bright but desolate world she'd just left. Sitting bolt upright, Rose felt vaguely sick, sweating and shaking more from anger than fear.

"Nightmare?" asked Edna dryly, sitting on a nearby rock and sharing her umbrella with Mikleo. Rose blinked in hazy confusion; those two had never gotten along well enough to stay in such close proximity voluntarily. (Was this another dream…? No, it couldn't be.) Remembering abruptly that Edna's word had been a question, Rose took a deep breath and a sip of water from her canteen, then shook her head.

"Careful, now," warned Zaveid, and Rose snapped her head around to find him sitting by Lailah's side some distance away, leaning forward with clasped hands and serious eyes. "Denial produces malevolence." As he spoke, Rose recognized with an unpleasant shiver that the sick feeling had gathered itself into a kind of heaviness in the pit of her stomach—just like when Dezel's domain had affected her.

"Don't worry," Edna told her, and Rose glanced over at her haltingly, unnerved. "You've got a little while to go before you go full hellion mode, but you'll still want to keep an eye on that. If not for your sake, then for ours."

"Was it Symonne?" added Mikleo, rubbing the bridge of his nose thoughtfully; Rose nodded, then winced as her head throbbed at the motion. She still felt about as fatigued as she had in the dream; so much for using the ring to get a good night's rest.

"Rose…" began Lailah, then hesitated, not quite meeting her eyes as Rose turned to face her again. "Why do you still wear that ring?" she finished, as though reading her thoughts. "You haven't slept well ever since you put it on, and our objective is no longer to find Symonne, but to find Dezel. There's no reason for you to torture yourself like this."

Pursing her lips, Rose turned the ring on her finger in a gesture that had become almost automatic ever since Dezel had turned into a dragon. "I—I need to," she responded finally, unable to articulate the reasoning even to herself. "It's just… a feeling I get. Like I shouldn't take it off, or I might miss something."

Lailah glanced at Zaveid helplessly, and the wind seraph heaved an obliging sigh, hiding his face momentarily in Dezel's hat. "Look," he told her. "I'll give it to you straight. We're gonna do everything in our power to prevent you from falling to the malevolence, but we can't save either you or Dezel without your help." He looked her dead in the eye. "And that means that if that ring gets you any closer to Hellionville, I'll take it off for you, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it."

"That's… fair," admitted Rose grudgingly, but almost choked on a yawn. "What are you all doing up?" she added, frowning around at the seraphim. "It's not morning yet, right?" No matter what her dream had implied about the time, it didn't feel anything like morning usually did for her, and it _definitely_ didn't look like it.

Mikleo shook his head. "Don't worry; dawn's still a few hours away," he told her. "We couldn't decide who the last watch of the night should be, and none of us were asleep anyway, so we decided we'd all sit vigil. But you should go back to sleep if you can," he added, his voice acquiring a concerned edge. "The world will still be here when you wake up."

"Yup," agreed Edna, twirling her parasol once to scatter a torrent of heavy droplets in an aimless circle. "It'll also still be _ending_ , but don't let that get you down."

Mikleo rolled his eyes and gave some sort of retort under his breath, which started the familiar back-and-forth argumentative mutters (punctuated by the occasional conciliatory hiss from Lailah's direction), but Rose found herself smiling nonetheless as she lay back and made herself as comfortable as she could.

However obnoxious their banter could be, it was reassuring to know that at least one thing hadn't changed. Her world may well fall apart tomorrow, but the other four seraphim would still be there to support her, along with the other Shepherd and his Squire—and maybe they could hold enough of it together for Rose to find her footing.

* * *

 _Chapter named for the song from "Dragon Age: Inquisition", which actually fits this world so well that I'm smacking a link on my profile. Anyway, lots of reviews this time…_

 _ **Arthur Moebius:**_ _You've… thoroughly confused me at this point, but okay._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _I see your point about the Spiritcrest, but the Basin's got a pretty sky, itself. It's more to do with what's familiar than what's comfortable, anyway._

 _ **The Final Conduit:**_ _Well, we don't know no one's gone yet, so I wouldn't celebrate too soon… but yeah, the situation isn't as hopeless as y'all thought._

 _ **graveMonera:**_ _Thank you! I do love Zaveid, or—more accurately—I love what they tried to do with him. I may have said this already, but they were aiming for Zelos and somewhat missed the mark, so I'm making up for that however I can._

 _ **Straya:**_ _I believe I've already responded to the majority of your sentiments… but all the same, thank you for the compliments and I look forward to finding new ways to break everyone's hearts._

 _ **linake11:**_ _Heh, if there's one thing I love as much as infecting people with Panic! at the Disco, it's spreading the infection further on people who already have it. Also, to respond to your sidequest review, I was considering continuing that story and possibly including that morning as one of the chapters, although I feel that I'll end up doing that after the main story is complete. There's really not that much further to go._

 _ **NaotoShirogane:**_ _Oh, believe me, I know._

 _ **ViolettaXYZ:**_ _I assume the part you read and reread is the part where Zaveid uses the phrase "the woman he loves"? :) Anyway, yes, I did plot out most of the story beforehand, but the difference between that chapter and the rest of the story is that I wrote that chapter out almost completely, whereas the others were just planned without prose. Thank you for the compliments as usual!_

 _ **queenofcats81:**_ _Well, hello there! What a time for you to decide to read this, eh? I'd hoped you wouldn't get around to it until after there was more than one chapter of resolution…_

 _ **Anony-Moose:**_ _Yes, I am trying to include shipteases without making them too overt, so as to not rock too many… uh, ships. I'm glad you're enjoying those! (Then again, I did write a Zaveid/Lailah story once… so I guess it's kind of among the more obvious ones I included…)_

 _ **sheltatha-lore:**_ _If those are the only complaints you have, I'm incredibly flattered! I've got no excuse for 'cot' other than a misinterpretation of the definition, so I'll fix that someday if I can find it; but as for Zaveid's eyes, it's mostly because I've seen them portrayed as varying colors even in different pieces of official art, so I use shades of orangish-red and reddish-orange interchangeably._

 _ **Falsetta-Arias:**_ _I regret to inform you that my heart did not in fact skip a beat… but if a delighted giggle and schoolgirl blush counts as the reaction you're looking for, then I'm all yours. Thank you for all the compliments!_

 _ **Guiding Mist:**_ _*winces* I've been praying no poor souls like you would come along and catch up before I've put a few more chapters between "Angel of Death" and the present, but I suppose it can't be helped. I'm sorry! I'll try not to make you cry like that again, but I offer no guarantees!_


	45. Chapter 44: Promise

As it turned out, dragons could end wars about as well as they could start them.

Everyone had been stressing about how they'd get into the Hylander outpost all morning, to no avail. Alisha had initially suggested using her status as the princess to their advantage, but Sorey had pointed out that such a move might get her taken back to Ladylake, and he needed her services as a Squire too much to risk her capture.

Given that no one else had any better ideas by the time of their departure, Rose had made an executive decision to employ the color-changing illusion once more. This time, perhaps thanks to her increased exposure to Symonne's power, she had as crisp a view of each of her palette-swapped comrades as if the mirage and the truth were one and the same. (Still, there was something in the lighting that didn't seem quite right, although the others didn't seem to notice.)

Even the sight of Alisha as a redhead wasn't enough to lighten the mood and soothe Rose's frayed nerves, however, as they had still not been able to formulate a plan of action by the time they neared the gates. Sneaking their way into a military encampment in the midst of war, when they might be taken as Rolancian spies, was far more easily said than done.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, they immediately realized that the soldiers had much bigger problems to consider than a few suspicious individuals sneaking around on the outskirts. The gates were unmanned, the fence on the verge of collapse, and the sounds of shouting and shuffling about were evident even from a distance.

As they approached, a strangely familiar booming voice rose above the muffled clank and thump of armored footsteps, but it still took Rose a few seconds to recognize it. After all, there was no way such a prominent Rolancian could sound so authoritative in the Hylander camp. Sorey evidently had the same idea, exchanging a glance with each of his human companions and charged into the outpost, almost crashing into several equally hurried squadrons of knights from each nation… none of whom gave them so much as a second glance.

Sure enough, as they followed the sound to its source, they discovered Sergei Strelka in the Hylander commander's tent, issuing orders to his enemies and his own men alike as though born to do so. "Get back out there and scour the battlefield for more survivors!" he barked, and the group of men nodded immediately, gave their respective salutes, and charged off, clearly energized by Sergei's aura of fierce determination.

As soon as the last of the soldiers left the tent, however, the captain seemed to deflate. Heaving an exhausted sigh, he swayed dangerously in place, mopping his clammy forehead with the back of his glove. How long had it been since he'd slept…? "Sergei!" exclaimed Sorey, rushing forward at last with Alisha and Rose hot on his heels: the captain jumped, both hands flying automatically to the hilt of his broadsword. "What happened? What's going on?"

"Shepherd!" returned Sergei, staring at the three of them in astonishment as if unsure whether he was hallucinating, but quickly regained his grim resolve as he released his sword with an apparent effort. "Where do I begin?" he added, his voice edged with a weary and humorless laugh as he stepped forward to peer out of the tent and scan the skies. "The extent of my knowledge at the moment is that there's still a dragon somewhere out there."

"Thank gods," mumbled Rose, her shoulders slumping in relief… or perhaps fatigue born of hunger. She knew the importance of keeping up her strength more than anyone, especially as she'd had to miss a fair few meals in her life, but this morning had been the first time in living memory she'd skipped one of her own accord. The malevolence, thickening the air all around her, made her just queasy enough that eating felt like a bad idea.

" _Thank gods_?" repeated Sergei sharply, turning his hard hazel gaze to look her up and down in scornful shock. "Did you just say _thank gods_? Hundreds, maybe thousands of men have died out there, running from that… that abomination!" he ranted on, although he sounded much more miserable than angry.

"What Rose _means_ is that we've been trying to track down that dragon," said Sorey, so hastily he almost interrupted Sergei mid-lament. "And now that we know where it is, we can… deal with it." He spoke slowly, deliberately, trying to appease both the captain and his companions by implying solutions rather than stating them outright. (If he wasn't so pacifistic, thought Rose—glancing over at Alisha—he might make a fantastic ruler someday.)

Sergei relaxed almost imperceptibly, then shook his head. "Not quite," he told them gravely. "It showed up the other day and tore both armies apart, but nobody's lived to say where it's gone. I know many soldiers from each army defied my orders and banded together to find the beast, but…" He sighed, frustrated in his helplessness, and Rose guessed they had not yet returned. "It didn't fly away, so it must still be somewhere in Glaivend Basin, but where could a dragon possibly hide?"

Rose bit her lip nervously: if she had to hang around in this malevolence much longer before facing Dezel, she feared for her purity. Fortunately, Edna spoke up before she could dwell on that possibility: "I have an idea about that," muttered her voice from inside Sorey, though she sounded… not quite annoyed, but resentful. Like she'd rather she _didn't_ know.

"Might be better to keep the princess out of the line of fire this time, though," remarked Zaveid, his tone the usual peculiar blend of lighthearted seriousness—this time including a more unusual undercurrent of something that sounded almost like _anxiety_. "We need her to stay alive at least long enough to help us against Maotelus. Just a thought," he added, raising his voice over Lailah's shrill protests at his phrasing.

To Rose's surprise, rather than raise the objections she must have had, Alisha merely shot a sideways glance at Sorey. As he pursed his lips in solemn thought, she patiently awaited his verdict… but on closer inspection, she was holding her breath, and her eyes were more than a little nervous. "There's no way we're leaving Alisha behind after everything she's—" began Sorey firmly, but his Squire cut him off.

" _Amekia_!" hissed Alisha, elbowing him none too gently, and the Shepherd's eyes widened in an unpleasant realization as he stammered an apology… but it was too late. It had been long enough since they'd interacted with anyone that he'd forgotten all about using their aliases, and Rose was ashamed to admit that she hadn't understood Alisha's urgency at first either. (A pang shot across her heart as she remembered that she was supposed to be _Isylvia_.)

"Wait," began Sergei, staring between the three humans in incredulous comprehension. " _Princess_ Alisha?" He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword more in a gesture of stress than a legitimate threat, but Alisha narrowed her eyes and sank into a combat stance all the same. "Hyland attacked us because of your disappearance!" He glanced over at Sorey in search of an explanation, hurt and confusion in his eyes.

The Shepherd opened his mouth, but it was his Squire who spoke. "Please, do not blame Sorey," responded Alisha earnestly, releasing her spear and stepping forward in a gesture of peace, and Rose marveled at how easily she could slip between her designated roles: her words sounded so dignified, and her bearing was so regal, that she may as well have never left the capital. "I alone am at fault for fleeing my kingdom without explanation. Will you hear us out?"

Sergei inclined his head in a short and evidently unwilling nod, but said nothing; Alisha cleared her throat faintly after a small pause. "The Shepherds and I have been trying to put an end to the Age of Chaos," she explained, and—while warmed—Rose's heart seemed to grow heavier still at the pluralization. (After all, she could hardly be described as a Shepherd in her current condition.)

"This overwhelming malevolence, more than anything either country has or has not done, is the true reason behind this war," continued Alisha, her voice level and her expression solemn; it was all too clear that she would brook no dissent. "In order for us to eliminate it, we must recover a friend of ours… and to do so, we must confront this dragon."

The princess and the captain locked eyes for so long that Rose almost wanted to wave her hand between them, but doing so would undermine Alisha's ability to win her own arguments… so she settled for slipping her hand into the crook of Sorey's arm and leaning lightly against him instead. Whether she did so to seek tangible comfort or to offer him her own, even Rose didn't know, but he seemed grateful for her touch nonetheless—as she was thankful for his.

Eventually, Sergei let out a long breath and bowed his head. "I understand," he remarked, plainly reluctant to concede her point, "but… I'm afraid the battlefield is too dangerous at present. I mean no disrespect to you, Your Highness," he added courteously, "but if half the soldiers of Hyland and Rolance together are still missing, I fear for your safety in such a small party."

"Excuse you," interrupted Rose, pacing forward before Alisha had to make a choice between diplomacy and honesty. Now that Dezel was gone, Rose had nothing to lose, least of all a reputation; after everything the Squire had done for her, or offered to do, it was the least she could do to help her out. "Do you know who you're talking to, Captain?"

"Why—Princess Alisha," responded Sergei, clearly nonplussed, and raised his eyebrows.

"Not _just_ a princess," Rose corrected him proudly. "She's a knight of Hyland and Sorey's Squire, too. She knows exactly what she's getting into, and she's more than capable of dealing with the consequences. But everyone here knows that if somebody doesn't do something about that dragon, Glenwood's done for." Not to mention the rest of the world, but there was no need to catastrophize just yet.

"Rose," murmured Alisha, and the surprise in her eyes was quickly overtaken by soft and almost sisterly warmth.

"Hey, it's true," pointed out Rose, shrugging, but grinned despite herself. The other day, Alisha had reassured her of their friendship— _her_ friendship—in her hour of need. If Rose could return the favor by extolling her credibility at the opportune moment, then so be it.

Sergei gave a weary sigh. "I know in my heart that you must be right," he told them, eyeing each one of them blearily, "but I wish it were otherwise. If you would only let me accompany you, it might set my mind at ease at least a little," he added, though his tone was too exhausted to be hopeful.

Rose knew better than to think Sorey would let Sergei come along even if he hadn't looked so drained: sure enough, the Shepherd shook his head even before the captain had finished speaking. "No, Sergei," he told him evenly. "The soldiers need you here to stay here. You're all they have, now."

"And please don't try to do everything yourself," added Alisha, eyes glimmering in selfless worry. "I know all too well the burden of leadership, so I can tell you it's easier if you allow yourself to delegate at least a few tasks. Any of the Hylander officers are competent enough to assist you in running this camp, if any of them have… have survived." She swallowed, but her voice was steady as she continued, "You're only human, and you need _rest_."

Sergei opened his mouth as if to tell her he was fine, but whatever he might have said quickly turned into a yawn, and he turned his face away sheepishly. "I suppose you have a point," he mumbled, not meeting anyone's eyes, and his color heightened a few shades in endearing embarrassment. "I'll speak to the officers, and then I'll try to rest… although I doubt I'll be able to get much sleep."

Rose smiled in relief; there was such a thing as being too dedicated to one's work. There was only so much Sergei could do before he collapsed, and made himself utterly useless in so doing. Thank goodness they'd arrived to talk some sense into him before that point. "Godspeed, Your Highness… gentle Shepherd… milady," murmured Sergei, dipping his head respectfully to each of the humans as he addressed them. "I will keep you, and your seraphim, in my prayers."

"Thanks, Sergei," responded Sorey, nodding somewhat awkwardly and beaming at him as widely as if they weren't walking to their certain doom (at least as far as the captain was concerned). "We won't forget this."

* * *

Even if Edna refused to explain where she was taking them, at least it felt like they were making progress… even if they apparently had to take the scenic route, since the direct path was barricaded. One of the soldiers had explained fearfully that such a measure had been deemed necessary early on to guard against the army of hellions, and flatly refused to let them pass through.

Of course, Sorey being Sorey, he'd refused to force the issue, and instead had Edna navigate them along an alternate way. Though Rose agreed with his motivation and even his decision, she grew more and more restless as time dragged on and the sky gradually darkened. Which would be worse—fighting a dragon on an empty stomach after a full day of travel, or spending another fitful night as the malevolence festered inside her?

"The wind tells me he's near," murmured Zaveid's voice finally, and all thoughts came to an abrupt halt along with the humans' feet as they rounded the last corner. None of them so much as gestured for the others to stop, but Rose could tell they all _felt_ that moving forward was… wrong. Only as she caught the coppery tang of blood on the wind did she begin to understand why, and as they stood atop a ridge with a view of a cave before them and a valley beneath them, a scene out of her nightmares gradually unfolded.

The ground below was burnt and blackened, littered with more charred corpses than Rose could possibly count: so _this_ had been the fate of the missing men. Illuminated more by flashes of lightning than the storm-veiled sunset, they lay half-sunken in a malevolence-made mire of rain and blood and corruption. All tattered flags had been drained of color as if in fear, all armor melted and twisted beyond recognition—the cold and unifying anonymity of death rendering meaningless all borders between humankind.

Rose's knees buckled, and she sank to the slick earth in numb shock, curling her fingers into the mud in a desperate effort to ground herself. For all his gruff irritability, Dezel had still fought to save Glenwood; for all his obsession with vengeance, he still had a strong sense of justice. If he had become a beast that had slaughtered these soldiers so indiscriminately, and so horrifically, then there could be no hope for his sanity. They'd have to…

"Hey, are you okay?" asked Sorey, resting a concerned hand on her shoulder, and his voice sounded as though it came from a great distance. Rose struggled to focus on his face, feeling sick to her soul with the chilling certainty that there was no way out. Even if they managed to defeat Dezel, which was a tremendous _if_ , they'd never be able to purify him. Rose had always thought that the inability to purify dragons had been an arbitrary rule, but perhaps it was because their minds had been irretrievably lost. Even if they could somehow purify the body, the soul may be corrupted to the core.

"I-it's nothing," managed Rose faintly, almost retching as her throat convulsed with the effort of speech. Whether Dezel killed her, or whether she sentenced herself to hellionization by slaying him first, today would without a doubt be the day she died. Rose had thought she had been prepared for this moment, but as truth crashed down on her shaking shoulders, she'd have given anything to be able to think like Zaveid and admit that some sacrifices were necessary.

"It most certainly is not _nothing_ ," returned Alisha, her voice tense and cross only out of concern. "Look, there's some shelter," she added, glancing over at Sorey, and the two of them hauled Rose to her feet and guided her to sit down behind a nearby rock. That rock and perhaps a hundred yards of cliffside were the only things between them and that cavern—between them and Dezel—but they were better than nothing, and at least they couldn't see into that bleak valley anymore.

Shivering from head to toe, Rose fell to her knees again as soon as they stopped moving, and held her head in her trembling hands. The gory battlefield burst into her her head again with the next glint of lightning, and she shuddered, barely registering Alisha's hand tracing comforting circles on her shoulder. This was no nightmare, but a symbolic reflection of her own sad fate, and she wasn't sure she could face reality anymore.

"I-it'll be over soon, one way or another," said Sorey, crouching next to them anxiously, and the seraphim emerged: Mikleo and Edna immediately set to work deflecting the mud and rain, while Lailah conjured a small white flame in her hands that threw off multicolored sparks of heat. "I promise."

"Anything I can do?" asked Zaveid, stilling the winds, and Rose glanced up at him distractedly as he addressed her. Though there was a twinkle of humor in his eyes as usual, his voice was serious enough… and almost insupportably kind.

Rose took as deep a breath as though he had touched her out of airlessness just like Dezel. " _You_ , no," she responded, her voice cracking, and she closed her eyes to suppress her sudden tears. If there was one reason she didn't want to die, it was because she'd be leaving all her dearest friends to save the world alone. "But _we_ can make sure we kill him quickly."

"No one said we were going to kill him, Rose," murmured Lailah, her eyes shimmering desperately, and the flame in her palms dimmed before she made a conscious effort to brighten it again. Rose knew she was hardly in denial, and that her blind reassurance was only intended to lift her spirits… but it only frustrated her more, and the weight in her core grew colder and more corrosive still: how could she see the same sights Rose had seen, and still insist that there was a way…?

"He'll kill _us_ if we don't strike first!" exclaimed Rose, her voice rising uncontrollably in both pitch and volume. "Even as a seraph, that was how he…" Her throat tightening, she found that she could not continue, and prayed that the silence would speak for her.

After an awkward pause, Alisha gave a light sigh. "All right, so what's the plan of atta…" She cleared her throat, shaking her head vigorously. "What's our strategy?" she amended, with a sidelong glance in Rose's direction.

Though Rose's eyes had fixed themselves on the ground before her, she could still see everyone eyeing her with apprehension and pity, and her anger grew to an unbearable pitch. "Stop tiptoeing around me like this," snapped Rose, clenching her feeble fists. "I know what has to happen here, probably better than any of you do—!"

But Edna hit her over the head with her folded umbrella as hard as she could, and she gasped in unexpected pain, clutching her head again for different reasons this time. " _No, you_ _don't_!" Edna flared up, and she had never looked so tall as in the moment she stood pointing her parasol threateningly at Rose's throat. "Even though the malevolence here is strong enough to accelerate the process, Dezel can't have lost himself yet! My brother has been a dragon for _centuries_ , and h-he—!"

A small sob choked Edna off, and she disappeared into Sorey with startling suddenness. One breath she was there; the next, she had vanished. Once she got over her shock, Rose couldn't help but feel a little bit sorry for her, and Lailah cleared her throat. "Th-that's right," agreed the fire seraph, her voice strained but encouraging, and made an attempt at a smile. "And you're living proof Dezel isn't a lost cause."

"After all," added Mikleo, more matter-of-factly, "if he'd been completely taken over already, even our domains wouldn't be able to keep you from being corrupted—especially in a place as malevolent as this. If there truly wasn't any hope, you'd be a hellion by now."

"Or, you know, dead," added Zaveid, but his voice seemed lighter than usual, and the smile he tossed her seemed strangely genuine. "Chin up, Rose," he added, giving her a wink so confident that it almost made her believe in him… if only for a moment. "It could always be worse—and it probably will be, before long. You can't collapse on us yet."

Lailah gave him an admonishing glare and mouthed his name sternly, but Rose managed a wan smile. He at least was willing to address the fact that this wasn't all sunshine and, well, _roses_. "See, Zaveid gets it," she sighed, glancing around at her other friends to find them looking no more pleased with him than Lailah. "I'd really rather not get my hopes up and be disappointed. If I go into this expecting the worst, the only surprises will be nice ones."

"But expecting the worst can also cause the worst to happen," retorted Alisha. "Be _prepared_ for it, but at least allow for the possibility of success. You have to trust that we'll be able to find a way to save you both, or we're going to lose the battle before it even starts!"

"I guess so," admitted Rose grudgingly, her voice lowering to an automatic growl, "but if we _do_ have no choice but to kill him…" She glanced around at the others, and Alisha set her jaw: she must have been holding out the hope that Rose wouldn't resort to this. "You have to let me do it." _As a last request_ , she added to herself, but could not say as much.

Instead, there was a long and uneasy silence, during which the Shepherd and his seraphim exchanged troubled glances; Alisha, meanwhile, avoided looking at any of them. Zaveid drew everyone's attention before long, staring each of his companions down in turn. In his gaze was a clear challenge, a wordless warning not to interfere… and no trace of worry—only respect and resignation. (He must have guessed that Rose would make such a request.)

Finally, Sorey released a long and regretful sigh, though he shook his head as though unable to come to terms with whatever decision he had made. "A-all right," he mumbled apprehensively, but at least by now he knew better than to get in his former Squire's way. "But please… don't throw your life away. I have faith that we can all make it through this in one piece, Dezel included."

As he spoke, Rose's breath caught at the memory of her seraph's unbroken yet heartbreaking vow; however long ago that had been, it either felt like an eternity or a mere moment. Forcing her mind away from her hellionized Prime Lord, Rose bowed her head by way of accepting Sorey's terms, though she could not muster any words to reinforce her promise.

"Is there… a plan?" she asked instead, as Alisha and her Shepherd helped her to her feet once more. Sorey smiled somewhat sadly, drawing his sword, and Edna emerged again as the seraphim all readied their weapons: after a pregnant pause, Rose followed suit. Could she really make good on her word and kill Dezel? All too easily, she could imagine herself faltering in the moment of truth, even if the hesitation cost her friends their lives.

As she drew her daggers, her companions visibly steeled themselves for the battle to come, as though baring her blades had been some sort of a signal. "Survive," responded Sorey simply, and—as he led their swift and silent charge along the cliffside in the beginnings of a surprise attack—Rose reflected that she'd never been given a more impossible task.

* * *

 _Ah, cliffhangers. Here's hoping the break between updates won't be too long…_

 _ **Anony-Moose:**_ _Well, you're caught up now! And yes, that was in fact a Berseria reference. I have high hopes for that game, but I can't shake the feeling they're just going to overcomplicate an already complicated timeline. All that's left is to pray that's not the case. Anyway, I'm flattered that you get lost enough in my story that you forget Zestiria follows canon, haha. That's probably the highest possible praise._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Oh, really? I wasn't actually intending to make anyone like Symonne, but I guess that's a logical consequence of fleshing her out a bit. Anyway, you know me well enough to know I love me some dark possibilities, so stay on your toes._

 _ **queenofcats81:**_ _Mercy? You're talking to a writer. Writers are at the mercy of their stories. That's the only mercy there is._

 _ **Arthur Moebius:**_ _Oh, you'll see._

 _ **MistralisLea:**_ _I'm hoping that's in a… positive way? I'm reluctant to say 'good' given what's happening and/or about to happen, but…_

 _ **ViolettaXYZ:**_ _You don't have to review every chapter if you don't have time or can't think of anything to say! I have faith you're still around. But I'm sorry real life is stressful, and sorrier still that I can't alleviate any of that with the events of this story. Hang in there!_

 _ **Guest:**_ _Why, thank you!_

 _ **FloraParade:**_ _*reads review on the very first chapter* Let me know whether you still think this story is awesome by the time you catch up to this response, haha._


	46. Chapter 45: The Price of Purification

Failure had never weighed more heavily on Rose's chest than when she lay spread-eagled and broken on the ground, her breathing ragged and vision hazy. At least her nerves were too numb for her to suffer; she had only to await the afterlife, regretting that she had not been able to obey even the simplest of orders in the end.

The dragon hadn't been aiming for her; in fact, it had actively avoided hitting her throughout the entire confrontation. After their initial attempt at purification had failed, it had been determined that they had no choice but to attack in the faint hope that weakening the dragon would somehow increase their chances of success.

Once they'd finally mustered their courage and charged forward, Rose had screamed Dezel's name by way of battle cry, and it— _he_ —had hesitated. The hope that he had not lost himself after all had ached at her heart until she could barely breathe. As the others had begun the battle in earnest, Rose had realized that all the dragon's desperate aggression had been focused exclusively on her friends, and only then in self-defense. (Had the soldiers lying dead in the valley tried to kill it first…?)

Even without having to dodge the dragon's attacks, Rose's knives hadn't been of much use—and without the power of armatization on her side, she couldn't get close enough to try them out anyway. The seraphim at least had longer-range artes on their side, and even Alisha had been able to pierce through some chinks in that scaly armor to stab its tail. More often than not, Rose had found herself forced to act as a distraction, shrieking Dezel's name in the prayer of recognition until her throat hurt almost as much as her heart.

There'd never been anything more frustrating to Rose than helplessness… so perhaps that had been why, as soon as she'd noticed a sinister glow encircling the armatized Sorey and Lailah, she had rushed forward and pushed them aside to take the hit herself. Whatever had struck Rose, it had felt like lightning: all sound had vanished from her ears, all sensation from her limbs, and all thoughts from her mind. If anything had happened after that, Rose didn't know about it, nor did she have the strength to care.

Gods, she was just so _tired_.

As if in response to that undeniable truth more than any conscious thought, Rose's eyes fluttered shut half against her will, and the earth dropped away beneath her—but she couldn't find the voice to scream. She could only fall for what felt like forever, too weak even to wonder to where she plummeted or why… until…

Something slowed Rose's descent, so gradually she barely noticed it at first, but once she focused on the faint stirring of gentle breezes at her back, they seemed to grow stronger and more tangible still—as though the air itself cushioned her fall. Her muscles had already relaxed into the certainty of death, but now a sense of true serenity spread to Rose's very soul; this could not be hell, nor hellionization.

Rose came to a halt even as the thought crossed her mind, and the air stilled around her again: after a breathless pause, she reluctantly cracked one eyelid open. She lay… in the sky, perhaps, judging from the smears of blue and white all around her. And next to her sat someone blurry, all black and white and green and tan, the long-forgotten sun glancing off gold medallions on a top hat covering silver hair…

"D-Dezel?" she managed hoarsely, the name springing unbidden to her lips, and tried to sit up—but fell back immediately, and had to settle for gazing over at him instead, wishing her sight would come back into focus more quickly.

The shape shook his head slowly, sadly, and she concentrated hard to bring the familiar stranger's face into sharper detail. "No," he murmured, his eyes glimmering soft and sharp and hazel, and Rose realized with some disappointment that his hair was much longer than Dezel's had been. "He's a dragon, remember? And he's a dragon because of us."

 _Us_. This must be Dezel's friend; the name 'Lafarga' burst into Rose's mind like rainwater, and she frowned at him feebly. She could hardly formulate coherent thoughts, let alone words, but she distinctly remembered that his life force had dissolved and scattered before Dezel had become a dragon. Even if this was heaven, he shouldn't be in one piece.

As if guessing her thoughts, Lafarga offered her a small, sad smile. "This is only an illusion," he explained quietly. "But all fantasy is grounded in reality, you know. Symonne doesn't have the ability either to create or destroy anything… or anyone." He ran his fingers along the brim of his hat thoughtfully. "She just manipulates our perception of the world around us, that's all. Hold onto what is real, and you can't lose."

"So… I'm dreaming," clarified Rose, pushing back on her hands to sit up. And _that_ meant she was alive. Still, if Lafarga freely admitted to being an illusion, and if he understood so much about the nature of Symonne's powers, then it had to be another of her tricks—the trial Rose had never received, perhaps. She couldn't afford to let her guard down any further.

Lafarga must have been able to see her suspicion, but did not acknowledge it in the slightest. "You could say that," he agreed, nodding, and crossed his arms. "You could also say you're dying, or that you're the princess of Rolance—and none of those statements would be true."

Rose glared at him, but ended up grimacing as her head throbbed painfully. She would have liked to lecture him on appropriate times and places for joking around, but necessity dictated that she shelve her pride instead. "Take me back," she said, her tone somewhere between authoritative and supplicatory, but could not think of any reasons why he should. She was at his— _Symonne's_ —mercy, after all.

"I'm not keeping you here," countered Lafarga unexpectedly. " _You_ are. You're running from what you think you have to do, and the ring responded, so here I am to keep you company." He hesitated, glancing still higher skyward. "Back in what you call the real world, almost no time has passed," he added, readjusting his hat in an eerily familiar set of motions. "There's no hurry. Take your time."

"What are you?" demanded Rose, thoughts and feelings flooding back in irregular and disorienting bursts as she recovered more of herself. "I mean, really, what _are_ you? Because if you're just Symonne or one of her puppets, making yourself look like Lafarga…" She trailed off as threateningly as she could, knowing full well there was nothing she could do.

Lafarga chuckled. "Someday, you'll start trusting yourself enough to believe your own strength," he told her, his voice soft and sincere. "Ask me anything, and I'll only be able to tell you what you already know on some level—because I come from you. You're using Symonne's powers to manipulate your own thoughts."

"How the hell would I do that?" retorted Rose, more and more irritated as her head cleared. "And _why_? I've never even seen you before." But even as she spoke, she recalled a few long-ago glimpses she thought she'd caught of the Windriders' guardian seraphim over the years. One of them had looked suspiciously like Lafarga, but she'd written that off as a result of having her first drink.

Lafarga shrugged disinterestedly, though his form seemed clearer still now that the faint recollection had caught her attention. "Maybe it's easier for you to hear the truth from someone else," he sighed. "The point is, my form doesn't matter. I could look like anyone, and I'd still be a part of you."

"A part of me," repeated Rose distantly, as something clicked deep inside her. She found her thoughts drifting back to the battle at hand, remembering that her friends were all pulling together to save her. If Lafarga was telling the truth, there was still time for her to go back and help them if she put her mind to it. As the thought occurred to her, she realized she had started rising into the air, and flailed her limbs automatically in a futile attempt to cling to something solid.

"I guess you've reached a decision," he smiled, his voice and expression both warm, but there was something melancholy about the way he looked at her. "And you didn't even need me to remind you that you're not actually dead, either. Congratulations." A weight seemed to lift from Rose's heart at his words, and she floated still higher, gradually forcing herself to relax as she fell up.

After a few moments, she realized with a jolt that she had not yet thanked Lafarga, but as she turned her head to address him below her, he interrupted her—and she could tell from his persistent grin that he already understood her gratitude. "Don't forget to tell them all you love them while you still have the chance," called Lafarga. "They're your friends, and they'll always be there for you."

At the echo of Alisha's words, Rose jerked awake to find the battle still raging on around her, and the ring burned hot on her finger. As she sat up, she realized that Lailah knelt beside her, casting fervent healing artes. " _Rose_ ," she gasped, relief shining in her eyes, and lowered her hands. "You're all right!"

"Y-yeah," responded Rose, raising a hand to brush her sopping hair out of her eyes, and glanced around the battlefield—slick with mud, and the blood of hundreds of soldiers. To her delight, the others seemed to have the situation well under control: Sorey and Alisha attacked in unison, slashing at every bit of dragon they could find, as Zaveid kept its attention occupied with his pendulums. And the dragon seemed to be… sinking…?

Only after Rose realized that the ground in the cavern was in the process of being liquefied into thick quicksand did she think to look for Mikleo and Edna. She spotted them clinging tightly to one another's arms some distance away, both pairs of eyes squeezed shut in fierce concentration as they bound their powers together in a unique and nameless arte. They almost looked like statues; their muscles were tense, they were both holding their breath, and their casting circles were flickering from fatigue.

Rose could tell even from this distance that the strain would get the better of them before too long; evidently, Zaveid had the same idea. "Good work, lovebirds!" he called out, rolling out of the way of a strike from the dragon's tail. His strategy worked: indignant and exhausted, Mikleo and Edna stopped casting, each red in the face from exasperation and embarrassment as much as exertion—but neither of them had the strength to retort.

Stumbling forward, Rose tried to think of how she could help, but there didn't seem to be much of a need for her assistance. As Zaveid wrapped both his pendulums firmly around two of the dragon's horns, Lailah twirled forward just in time to deflect the dragon's lashing tail with a small explosion. Alisha and Sorey shared a nod, and the Shepherd raised his hand as the Squire backed away and ran over to stand protectively beside Rose.

 **"Hephsin Yulind!"** exclaimed Sorey and Edna together, the latter still short of breath, and they dashed forward. Rose's breath caught and held as they leapt into the air with unnatural agility, bringing their fists down on the dragon's head with all their remaining power, letting out a roar. Rose looked sharply away, shivering, but averting her eyes did not block out the thunderous groan edged in a reptilian screech.

As the dragon slumped forward with a final earth-quaking crash, Sorey's armatization evaporated from around him: Edna emerged once more and swayed in place, evidently still dazed, and Zaveid caught and steadied her. " _Now_ , Lailah!" yelled Sorey, his eyes flinty: his Prime Lord steeled herself and nodded once, bringing forth the flames of purification.

…They didn't take. Though Lailah's fire licked experimentally at the dragon's malevolent aura, it seemed to recoil rather than cancel it out—and though its cerulean luminosity persisted for longer than it had at the beginning of the battle, the corruption overwhelmed it within a few moments. Lailah's eyes burned in desperate determination as she tried again and again, but the flames only dimmed more and more quickly… until eventually, she gave a sob and turned away in helpless anguish, curling her fingers into fists.

Only as Sorey turned his eyes uncertainly to Rose, grave and apologetic, did his former Squire's heart turn to stone in her chest with the cold realization that there was no other way out. This was it, then: the moment she'd have to kill her Prime Lord, condemn herself to malevolence, and pray the other Shepherd would be able to purify her before she turned on them.

Alisha rested her hand on Rose's shoulder in a gesture of comfort or perhaps farewell, braving a smile, but there were tears shimmering in her eyes. Mikleo cast a few furtive and solemn glances in their direction, helping the drained and distressed Edna to sit down on a nearby rock. Lailah had not moved since she'd abandoned hope of purification, her breaths coming swift and shallow as she silently gave herself over to weeping.

And Zaveid? Rose glanced over at him in the vain hopes that he'd reveal some sort of answer he'd been keeping secret all this time, but she found him gazing unreadably at the dragon instead, as though mulling something over. Whatever possible solution he'd mentioned before, he clearly hadn't figured it out yet.

…Well, they were out of time. Taking a deep and shuddering breath, Rose drew her knives and turned them over in her hands, eyeing the dragon's less heavily armored chest—thankfully left unburied in the quicksand. If the only way she could touch his heart anymore was to drive her daggers into it, so be it. That would be the most merciful way to end them both.

But Zaveid spoke up, startling her badly, before she could convince her frozen feet to move: "Well, I think I've had just about enough of this," he sighed, stretching luxuriously and cracking his back, and everyone turned their heads slowly to stare at him. "It's been fun," he added, tipping Dezel's hat as he glanced around at his companions with a smile, "but this is where I get off."

With the last word, he flung the hat aside: like a great cat, the dragon's dazed attention followed it until it landed distance away. (Even blind, it still had an accurate sense of space, just like the seraph it once had been.) "Hold on," called Sorey, frowning, and crossed his arms as Zaveid sauntered towards Rose. "What are you doing?"

"That sounds a lot like something you don't need to worry about," laughed Zaveid, and though his tone seemed lighthearted, there was still a warning edge to his voice. "Now, stand back." His voice turned more overtly serious as he spoke, and they all knew better than to argue… but as soon as Rose tried to take a few steps backward, Zaveid caught her wrist in his strong and gentle fingers.

"Not you," he told her, grinning as Rose looked him up and down apprehensively: he seemed entirely at ease with himself and his situation. What could he be planning? "I need you to be my second," he added almost mischievously, raising a conspiratorial hand to the side of his mouth. Rose frowned—second _what_?—but then there was a click as he twirled Siegfried out of its holster and prepared to fire it at his own temple.

Rose stared at him in alarm and confusion and opened her mouth, but it was Lailah who spoke. "Zaveid, _no_!" she cried frantically, wringing her hands in distress, but her panicky soprano was drowned out by the sound of artificial thunder, and Zaveid's form was swallowed by viridian winds. Did he intend to slay the dragon on her behalf? Every time she'd seen him use Siegfried, it had been in preparation to kill something, but _she'd_ requested to strike the final blow…!

The echo of his voice emerged from the maelstrom, but offered no explanation of his actions—only hollow reassurance. "Honey, when you've lived as long as I have, you know when it's time to go," remarked Zaveid teasingly, his tone as carefree as ever; though the colorful gales dissipated, a strange green glow still enveloped his features and followed his movements.

Rose's breath caught in the beginnings of understanding— _time to go_?—but there was so little room for thought amid the observations that she couldn't process the idea in time before Zaveid glanced up and fixed everyone individually with a warm and regretful gaze. "Be good, now," he told them, his eyes lingering on the distraught Edna. "That is, don't do anything I would do. And that goes for you especially," he added to Rose playfully.

She caught Siegfried before she even realized he had tossed it to her, and stared down briefly at the weapon in her hands, but as the dragon stirred again, she recognized that there was no time for thought—only action. The impulse to say his name burst into Rose's mind, drowning out all thoughts of demanding an explanation: **"Fylk Zahdeya!"** they exclaimed as one… and as Zaveid's essence flowed into her, she understood once and for all his strategy.

He had never intended to let her kill the dragon, nor did he mean to use Siegfried to slay it himself. Ever since Dezel's transformation, Zaveid had never planned to make it through this confrontation alive—because he was going to use his own augmented life force to neutralize the malevolence.

In that moment, Rose felt as though lightning had struck her a second time, and she gasped in almost physical pain as all his subtle kindnesses over the past several days seared her soul like dragon-fire. How could he be so selfless? And how could _she_ not have noticed? He had always insisted that some sacrifices were necessary, and he'd always put everyone else before him (all the while masquerading as a selfish pervert), but Rose had never put two and two together.

And yet, as he laid open the truth of his chosen path for her to see, it all made a disturbing kind of sense.

 _Aim for his heart_ , murmured Zaveid's voice, on the periphery of her consciousness… but Rose couldn't move. She'd had her doubts about killing her Prime Lord, but at least she knew it would work: if Zaveid's plan failed, he'd die for nothing. _Go on, do it,_ he urged her, a peculiar note of urgency in his voice. _Before I start having second thoughts. We don't have the time or the bullets to waste, and I'll need all the power I can get if I want to pull this off_.

Rose swallowed painfully; no matter how much she wanted to argue, he was right. It was now or never. "I… I'm sorry," she whispered aloud, aiming carefully as instructed—and _felt_ Zaveid's forgiveness, his fears, his hopes, his gratitude like a prayer to her and to Dezel as she pulled the trigger.

Zaveid's presence left her in an emerald flash, and the dragon gave an otherworldly shriek a split second later, clawing at its chest and writhing as if in unimaginable agony. Clenching her teeth so hard her jaw hurt, Rose clutched her own heart in an unconscious imitation, and all her strength seemed to ebb away: she sank to the ground, shivering violently. What had she done…?

A faint green light formed an orb of swirling winds around the dragon's heart, struggling to strengthen itself and expand outward as if sentient. Stirring herself out of her numb shock and helplessness, Rose willed Zaveid to succeed, no room for coherent thoughts amid the passion of her wish.

 _She just manipulates our perception of the world around us, that's all_ , she remembered abruptly, and half-consciously threw all her strength into forcing the dragon to understand that it was outmatched. Rose's resolve had never been so strong before: if Symonne could do it, so could she. The ring burned, but Rose barely felt it; caught up in controlling her racing heartbeat, she focused all her concentration on her desire to see Dezel again, intact and pure.

She didn't know what the dragon saw or heard or felt… but its struggles subsided all the same, and the sphere of wind gradually stabilized. As it swelled and brightened, it rendered the rest of the dragon's form translucent and then transparent… and Dezel's limp body became gradually more visible—outlined in blinding white light as it hovered in the center of the sphere.

By then no more than a shadowy silhouette, the hellion finally stopped resisting, and there was a sound like a colossal sigh as it stilled once and for all. Even as it did so, the sphere of Zaveid's soul exploded suddenly outwards with a flash like lightning; in place of thunder, there was a sound like his triumphant laughter as if from a great distance.

As she finally remembered to blink, clearing her vision and spilling her tears, Rose realized that the dragon was no more… and even as she stared in wonderment, Dezel's very own, beautifully seraphic form solidified and dropped to the pitted cavern floor—unconscious, but purified.

Rose was on her feet again and sprinting forward even before she even registered the action, and no words remained in her mind, only emotions: grief and rapture, fear and bliss, remorse and exultation. She didn't stop until she had skidded to a halt at Dezel's side to take in the deep rise and fall of his chest in slumber, and to feel his strong heartbeat pulsing beneath her shaking fingers.

"Dezel," she breathed, ecstatic, and barely had time to recognize the bone-deep fatigue overtaking her consciousness before darkness swallowed her whole.

* * *

 _*touches fingers together awkwardly* I'm… I'm so sorry… I wish I could say more. I'll leave an appropriately bittersweet requiem on my profile, as seems to be becoming custom. Listen to it, and you'll get a head start on next chapter's general theme. Don't listen to it, and you'll be acting according to Zaveid's wishes. He's never been the type to let little things like death get in the way of living his life, anyway._

 _ **linake11:**_ _Good! If you can hear the characters talking, then I've done my duty as author. Yes, this story is certainly approaching its conclusion, although we all know the chapters have a habit of splitting, so I can't offer a specific estimate. And wow, you're using my story and canon interchangeably too? Maybe you guys should make a petition for me to write the next Tales game or something. (I'm totally kidding. Please don't do that. They'd never let me anyway.)_

 _ **ViolettaXYZ:**_ _Oh, it's no trouble or anything! I didn't mean to say that you shouldn't review if you don't have something of substance to tell me—just that you don't have to force yourself for the sake of reviewing or anything._

 _ **The Final Conduit:**_ _Wow, high praise indeed! I hated the DLC, myself, so I'm glad you like my characterization better._

 _ **queenofcats81:**_ _Huh, if these chapters are less stressful than real life, that's… not good. Here's hoping everything turns out all right. Either way, I'm definitely not going to get hitched anytime soon. It's a little difficult to jump straight from single to married—not counting the fact that I'm in a committed, if undefined, relationship with my muse._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Well, you were right about me not killing Dezel after all, though of course that came at a price. I'm curious about whether your expectations for the future, and your assessment of whatever improbability you foresaw, proved equally as correct._


	47. Chapter 46: Silver Lining

Without Zaveid to shift the winds around, the world seemed to be holding its breath.

Even Rose's subconscious remained deathly still. She dreamed no dreams that night, the inside of her eyelids black and hollow… and when she awakened late the next morning, her surroundings were dark and silent and motionless but for the rain cascading down outside. Even Alisha, leaning against a rock a few feet away, barely stirred… until she caught sight of Rose's wakefulness, and gave a wan smile.

"Thank gods," she breathed, and her dull eyes glimmered suddenly with suppressed tears, reflecting the colorless approximation of sunlight filtering through the clouds. Only as Rose observed the toll yesterday's events had taken on the princess did she fully remember all that had happened, and—her muscles stiff and aching—glanced around frantically for Dezel.

The others must have let her lie where she fell, because she found him instantly, sprawled no more than a foot away from her. She heaved a sigh of relief so deep it hurt, turning to Alisha in search of an explanation, but the princess seemed to guess her thoughts and answered her formless questions. "His sleep has been fitful," explained Alisha hesitantly, as Rose gazed down at her Prime Lord again, "and none of us can tell when he'll awaken, but… Lailah says he should be fine."

"He'd better be," croaked Rose, clearing her throat in a vain attempt to find her voice. Zaveid wasn't allowed to have sacrificed himself without bringing Dezel back in one piece. If he ended up having given his life for nothing, Rose would head down to hell and drag him back by the hair so he could do it properly this time—or, better yet, find a solution that didn't involve dying in the first place.

"Where's Sorey?" she asked, but the sound seemed to come out less than a whisper… although, thankfully, Alisha still seemed to understand.

"He's gone out," she responded, her voice soft and gentle. "We're not as well-equipped as we could be, though of course some of us don't need food to survive. Neither of us wanted to take any supplies from the encampments while both armies are in this condition," continued Alisha, shaking her head, "but he went to check if any surplus supplies have come in from Ladylake. And to tell Sergei about… the fates of the armies."

As Rose nodded, Alisha's lips remained slightly parted, and she hesitated as though she had more to say—but then, she only closed her mouth and glanced away. When Rose gestured for her to continue, meeting her eyes to convey her meaning, Alisha seemed taken aback before she finally gave a faint smile. There was no reason for her to be so surprised that Rose would want to hear whatever she had to say; Sorey had left his Squire all alone for an indeterminate amount of time, and after all that had happened yesterday, it was understandable that she would want to talk, even if Rose couldn't offer much of a response.

"Sorey was more worried about you than anyone," she sighed. "I wanted to let him stay with you, and go to the outpost myself… but he said that even though we trust Sergei, we never made him promise not to tell anyone. He means well," added Alisha, "but I wouldn't put it past him to have told my people about our encounter—if only to make sure the war doesn't reignite now that the crisis is over."

Rose nodded again, but made no effort to reply in words; if her voice had all but vanished, she wasn't about to wear it out still further by trying to talk anyway. Besides, every time she couldn't speak, she realized how few of her thoughts were actually worth articulating in the first place. In this case, especially, there was so little she could say that it was for the best she didn't say anything at all. Fortunately, Alisha seemed to grasp the situation, and they lapsed into oddly serene silence.

How long Rose sat there, watching the rise and fall of Dezel's chest, she didn't know. She drifted aimlessly through her thoughts, drinking in her seraph's sweet aliveness—tainted by the bitter tang of grief. Yet, though the loss still ached inside her, the exhausted euphoria of reunion expanded to fill the hole in her heart until she could _almost_ believe everything was all right. At the very least, she was alive, and that was more than she had dared to hope only yesterday.

Eventually, hurried footsteps reached her ears, and she stirred herself from her thoughts enough to look up. "Rose!" exclaimed Sorey as soon as he caught sight of her, breaking into a run and leaping over Dezel to kneel beside her—dropping his rucksack as he went. As he pulled her into a tight yet tremulous embrace, she pressed her face into his shoulder, and he sniffled faintly next to her ear.

"You're okay," breathed Sorey, his voice shaking as much as the fingers digging softly into her back, and she could tell he said it as much for himself as for her. Sorey must have known Rose had never been in real danger, but she could still hear the words he didn't say: Zaveid was not okay. Zaveid was irretrievably lost, and this time, there could be no rescue mission. Even with the reassurance that Rose was only unconscious, he must have been terrified he'd lose more than one friend last night.

"I'm not going anywhere just yet," Rose whispered, taking Sorey by the shoulders and moving him back slightly so she could lean his forehead against his—then glanced over at Alisha to find her looking _through_ the two of them, her eyes faraway and lonely. (Would she never learn that she was a part of their family, too?) As Rose beckoned her forward to join them, Alisha managed another small but genuine smile, and finally approached. Sliding a gentle arm around each of their shoulders, she leaned her head against both of theirs from the side, and the three of them took enough strength from one another to breathe as one.

By the time Rose disentangled herself from Sorey and Alisha to look down at Dezel again, the remaining seraphim had emerged; ordinarily, she'd have sensed their physical presence sooner, but Edna had made no barbed jibe about saccharine sentimentality, and Lailah had not joined their embrace. Mikleo, meanwhile, stood farthest away and stared silently out at the storm, glassy-eyed—and all of them seemed unnaturally quiet.

"They're keeping vigil," mumbled Sorey, sensing Rose's question as she looked over at him, but avoided meeting his human companions' eyes. "It's the seraphic version of a funeral. None of them have spoken since…" There was no need for him to finish the sentence; Rose understood.

…And she _also_ understood, unfortunately from experience, that the unspeakable would need to be acknowledged someday if they ever wanted to move past all this. "I don't think Zaveid would want us to dwell on his death like this," managed Rose, her voice barely audible, and stared at Sorey and Alisha in turn until they looked away. _There_ was a thought worth putting into words.

Sorey sighed, shaking his head more in resigned agreement than contradiction. "Maybe you're right," he replied, moistening his lips. "He was never very traditional, anyway," he added, turning to look over at the seraphim as if expecting them to voice their assent, but none of them offered any indication that they'd even heard him—not even Mikleo.

"Regardless, Zaveid was a good man, even if he didn't always act like one," murmured Alisha unexpectedly, and Lailah gave a little gasp as if in pain, but said nothing. "Perhaps he didn't believe it himself, but… judging by his actions last night…"

As Alisha trailed off in uncharacteristic uncertainty, Sorey started as if just having remembered something, and turned to Rose in weary urgency. "That reminds me," he remarked, confusion and curiosity surfacing amid the sorrow in his eyes. "How _did_ you armatize with Zaveid, Rose?"

She frowned, more and more perplexed as she considered the question. Now that there was enough space in her head for Rose to think, she _shouldn't_ have been able to armatize with Zaveid, yet she had felt the impulse to say his name as if they'd been linked by some kind of pact. It probably had something to do with taking shelter in Sorey's domain, but… "I don't know," confessed Rose finally, thankfully too fatigued to be frustrated.

Lailah bowed her head, mouthing incomprehensibly to herself as if trying to arrive at a decision—and then, to Rose's great astonishment, broke her silence. "A Shepherd without a Prime Lord… is still a Shepherd," she explained, her voice low and hoarse from crying, and did not meet anyone's eyes as the humans turned to face her in surprise. "It seems that after you lost Dezel… you could access Sorey's seraphim through his domain."

"I mean, his domain _was_ what kept you from hellionizing immediately," added Mikleo, though he slipped from silence into speech somewhat more easily than Lailah: he hadn't been close enough to Zaveid for him to be as invested in their vigil as his Prime Lord. "It makes sense that you'd start drawing from Sorey's powers again, even if unconsciously."

Rose rubbed her forehead in her hand. "So you're saying… it's another accidental pact," she muttered, and coughed faintly—to no avail. Her voice seemed determined to remain unheard.

Still, Lailah nodded slowly. "In a sense, yes," she answered. "You served as Sorey's Squire for long enough that you grew accustomed to his domain and his seraphim, and your own seraph was out of range, so you could… _borrow_ his power, even though your pact as a Squire no longer stands." She gazed fixedly at the ground, clasping her hands together tightly before her. "But it's likely that, had you and Z-Zaveid remained armatized for much longer… his vessel's domain would have pulled him out of you."

Rose closed her eyes, recalling his urgency, and realized what he had meant: in addition to sparing him the time to think about what he'd been about to do, the support for their fleeting union had been so fragile that there really _hadn't_ been any extra time. And, though Rose had been too preoccupied to consider the source of her enervation, she hadn't felt so faint after armatizing since before her pact with Dezel had been made mutual—even with Sorey's domain to sustain the connection.

"Sorey is right," remarked Lailah softly as Rose opened her eyes. "Zaveid wouldn't want us to mourn him like this unless we have nothing better to do. Half a vigil is enough." She closed her eyes briefly, taking a shuddering breath. "He'd—he'd tell us to prepare for the road ahead, not linger on the path we took to get here."

Rather than let anyone see her start crying again, Lailah disappeared into Sorey as soon as she had finished speaking. Edna only inclined her head in either agreement or thought, stooping to pick something up from behind a rock, and Rose realized with a rush of relief that someone had remembered to bring his hat inside yesterday.

"Here," remarked Edna, as tonelessly as ever, and placed it carefully on the ground by Dezel's shoulder. "He'll want this when he wakes." She met Rose's gaze briefly as if she wanted to say more, but her eyes closed a moment later, and she vanished into Sorey. As Rose settled down across from the hat, she couldn't help but smile: it hadn't even been a question that she should be the one to return it.

* * *

…Despite her best efforts, however, Rose's exhaustion eventually got the better of her. Having deprived herself of sustenance for over twenty-four hours, and having been stretched to her emotional limits over the past week or two, it didn't strike her as much of a surprise that she'd fallen asleep in the end.

By the time she surfaced, her body told her the sun should be rising. It took her a moment to wonder what had awakened her; she hardly felt well-rested, so whenever she'd lost consciousness, it probably hadn't been _that_ long ago. However, all thoughts quickly fled her mind as she realized that she could feel something stirring beneath her fingers, still curled loosely around Dezel's. Sitting up a little too quickly, Rose rubbed sleep roughly from her eyes and stared down at her seraph.

The clouds had thinned since yesterday, but there was still so little light that she could barely see. Still, his breathing seemed shallower, and she could hear his subtle movements against the stone floor of the cavern—mingling with a few scattered incoherent vocalizations hitching in the back of his throat. Whatever he was dreaming, it couldn't be good. The ring had stopped giving her nightmares; if she could only stop _his_ …

Almost before the thought had fully formed in her mind, the ring gleamed on her finger, reflecting light that was not there, and Rose experienced a familiar surge of energy. That jolt of Symonne's power had once been unpleasant; now, it felt almost exhilarating. If her power lay in perception, reasoned Rose, then maybe she could mitigate Dezel's dreams after all.

" _Shhhh_ ," she tried, an echo of Dezel's wordless comfort to her what seemed like so long ago, and rested her hand over his heart… but her attempt at consolation only seemed to agitate him further. Or perhaps it was the ring, realized Rose, snatching back her hand in a hurry; if this power came from Symonne, then of _course_ he'd have a negative reac—

" _Rose_!" gasped Dezel, sitting bolt upright, and Rose gave a startled cry at the sudden motion, her heart freezing in her chest. As he glanced jerkily around, trying to get his bearings, she felt her heart start beating again, and she gave a half-laugh of relief and wonderment. As Dezel's winds washed warmly over her, Rose's eyes filled with all the tears she hadn't let spill since his transformation—tears of grief for Zaveid's sacrifice, of joy at Dezel's awakening, of the last stale remnants of her fear of solitude.

She didn't mean to fall forward, only to lean… but as soon as she readjusted her position, she found herself so weak that she lost her balance and collapsed on top of him instead, pushing him back to the ground. "Dezel," she sobbed into his chest, and though her voice had evidently returned, her burning throat closed itself off so that she could say no more.

Fortunately, she discovered almost immediately that there was no need for words at first anyway. For a long time, they simply held one another more tightly than ever before, one of Dezel's hands pressing on the small of Rose's back to draw her impossibly close, the other tangled in her hair to cradle her head as she pressed her ear to his heartbeat. "I—I m-missed you," managed Rose eventually, giving another thick laugh.

Letting out a long and halting sigh, Dezel brushed his hand up and down her back in a gesture of comfort and togetherness. "Sorry I left you like that," he told her, and contentment welled up in her very being as she felt the vibrations of his low and sincere voice. _This_ was where she belonged, in his strong and gentle arms. How could she ever have thought otherwise? "I—"

"Dezel! You're back!" exclaimed Sorey excitedly, interrupting them (perhaps inadvertently), and Rose could feel her seraph tense beneath her an instant before she jumped at the sound of his voice. She'd been so involved in absorbing the truth of Dezel's presence that she hadn't realized they had an audience.

Not too long ago, Rose would have clambered off Dezel as soon as she realized they weren't alone, but nothing could make her let go of him now… not even the realization that the other seraphim had been awake and watching long before their Shepherd, judging from the looks on their faces as they emerged—dimly lit at first, then illuminated by Lailah's fire as she set one of her cards ablaze by way of lantern.

Still, to Rose's simultaneous relief and apprehension, they didn't immediately address the moment they'd witnessed. Instead, they seemed more interested in expressing their feelings regarding Dezel's return. "Thank goodness," breathed Lailah, her eyes shining in her flickering firelight, and clasped her hands as if in prayer. "I was so worried."

Mikleo nodded his agreement. "Welcome back," he added, crossing his arms as Alisha sat up sleepily and stretched. "The world wouldn't have stood a chance if you'd stayed a dragon. I'm glad you're here."

Edna, meanwhile, opted to address her vessel instead. "Way to ruin the moment, Sorey," she remarked, prodding him disdainfully with her parasol; despite his best efforts to look apologetic, he couldn't suppress a lopsided smile as he ran a hand through his perpetually unruly hair. "Just when it was getting interesting, too. Anyway," she added to Dezel, "nice job not making us kill you, Dezel. Keep it that way."

Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke, and she swallowed at the end of the sentence, but her expression was one of fierce determination. Despite her teasing, merciless as ever, Rose found herself pleased to glimpse the familiar—if subdued—gleam of mischief in her turquoise eyes. They'd been so dull and hollow for long enough that even blatant annoyance would have been a relief.

Dezel, meanwhile, only cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting in place beneath Rose, and irrational panic flared up in her heart as she realized he might be preparing to push her off… but instead, he only scooted back gingerly to lean against the rock behind him. "So, where are we?" he asked finally, retrieving his forgotten hat from beside him and adjusting it on his head.

Rose snuggled still closer against Dezel, struggling to resist the urge to close her eyes and fall back asleep. She should try to stay awake through a conversation as important as this one; talking about the past usually led to discussing the future, and until a couple days ago, there hadn't been enough of a chance at a future for them to have bothered doing so already. They really needed a plan if they meant to defeat Maotelus with one fewer seraph than anticipated.

"Cornic Caves," responded Edna dispassionately. "Formerly Cornic _Sealed_ Caves, except you smashed that part to smithereens. It's okay, though," she smiled, opening her umbrella ominously and giving it a contemplative twirl. "You can always make it up to me later."

"Sorry," mumbled Dezel, looking away, and Rose raised her head briefly to find his expression somewhere between sheepish and unnerved. "The last thing I remember is transforming, and then…" Trailing off, he reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes, but his hand settled back onto Rose's shoulder almost immediately, his fingers curling delicately around her arm. She lowered her head to rest over his heart again as he took a breath in preparation to continue—but Lailah spoke first.

"Your eyes," she gasped, lifting a hand to her mouth, and Rose frowned as she offered no explanation. As the others only stared in shock and alarm, she pushed herself further upright to observe the situation herself, taking off Dezel's hat and holding back his bangs (already falling back into his face) to clear her line of sight.

… _His eyes_ indeed. Following his purification, Dezel's irises had become the brightest, deepest, most beautiful shade of emerald Rose had ever seen, and she actually found herself at a loss for words. Zaveid had brought him back more completely than any of them had dared to hope, but Dezel himself didn't seem to think it was worth a mention.

"What are you looking at?" he demanded, snatching back his hat and pulling it down over his eyes, and his winds swept restlessly around the cavern… although Rose got the feeling he was actually more flustered by the surge of attention than actually annoyed with any of them. "Haven't you ever seen green eyes before? Stare at Sorey if you like them so much!"

Rose opened her mouth to retort, but Mikleo cut her off with a sigh. "You _know_ what we're looking at," he muttered, shaking his head, and Rose allowed Dezel to push her back down against him once more. "People don't just stop being blind overnight, Dezel."

"I'm not a _person_ ," returned Dezel. "I was a dragon, and now I'm a seraph again. And besides," he added, his voice turning somber and almost self-deprecating, "I was only ever blind because I lost sight of the truth for a while. I guess… this means I found it again."

His grip on Rose tightened almost imperceptibly as he spoke, and she could feel herself flush, almost airless as her mind raced far ahead of the situation. It was brought quickly back again, however, as Edna spoke: "Get a room, you two," she muttered, looking sharply away, although she glanced back at them out the corner of her eye in a way that suggested they should continue regardless of where they were.

Rose half expected Dezel to go on the defensive, but he barely seemed to hear her; his thoughts were clearly elsewhere as he sighed, his grip loosening again, and looked around at everyone. "Zaveid… gave me a message," he told them finally, almost grudgingly. "I… spoke to him, or I guess he spoke to me, after he saved me. Or maybe it was _while_ he was saving me? We were hovering in this kind of golden light…" He shook his head, evidently frustrated with his attempts at an explanation. "Never mind," he muttered. "It doesn't matter. I'll just give you the message, if you'll hear it."

"Of course we will," put in Alisha, and Sorey gave an encouraging nod.

Dezel cleared his throat as if reluctant. "He told me… he's only dying so everyone else can live, so we'd better not squander his sacrifice. And if any of us let a little thing like this get us down," he added (Rose could almost hear Zaveid speaking alongside Dezel, so like him was the choice of words), "he said he's going to haunt our asses from beyond the grave." His newly green gaze, alight with apparent amusement, swiveled over to his fellow Prime Lord. "Especially Lailah's." The fire seraph flushed and stuttered as all eyes turned to her, and Rose grinned—but Dezel hardly even slowed down.

"He also told me to tell… Eizen, I think, that he's sorry he couldn't fulfill his promise," he continued. "But he also said he's sure he'll see him in hell once someone manages to put him out of his misery, so he can have his payback then." Edna inhaled sharply and turned away at the mention of her brother, but Rose frowned at Dezel's phrasing. He _knew_ who Eizen was, so why did his uncertainty seem to be tied to the name rather than the associated message…?

"Isn't that just like Zaveid," sighed Mikleo, shaking his head, and drawing Rose out of her thoughts. "Flippant to the end." Dezel nodded in agreement, but only after a hesitation, and Rose could sense subdued agitation rolling off him in waves. She'd have to ask what was bothering him later, because he didn't seem likely to address it on his own.

"Sorry for screwing everyone over like that," he muttered, changing the subject abruptly, and the words almost seemed to wrench themselves out of him. "I've been doing that for longer than I thought. I don't know if you heard Symonne's spiel, or if Rose told you," he added, "but I steal everyone else's strength to uphold my domain instead of using my own… and because of that, the malevolence I generate latches onto everyone else. Or at least, it _did_ ," he sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "I don't know anymore."

"That wasn't your fault, though," responded Mikleo, with surprising immediacy. "Well, not _all_ your fault," he amended thoughtfully. "You probably could have handled a few things better, but I think that goes for everyone."

"Thanks," sighed Dezel, but Rose couldn't tell whether the single word was sarcastic or sincere; judging from the others' frowns, they couldn't either. "Anyway, I can't tell for sure, but I think I might have messed with the way my domain works by deciding to let myself be corrupted, because something inside me feels different. Better," he added, "but different. I guess I'll figure it out later."

No one else seemed to have anything to say to that, so there was a brief and awkward pause before Alisha eventually spoke up. "We should probably get going soon," she announced, although she hardly sounded enthusiastic about the idea. "Time is as short as ever, and if we need to backtrack all the way back to Elysia…"

"That won't be necessary," interrupted Edna unexpectedly, and all eyes turned to her as she spun her parasol restlessly. "This cave actually leads straight to Camlann. Do not pass Elysia. Do not collect two hundred gald."

Sorey's face lit up at the mention of a shortcut, but Rose and Alisha exchanged an apprehensive glance; they couldn't afford to get their hopes up. "Isn't that a little too convenient?" asked Rose tentatively.

Edna shook her head. "It's because of where this passage leads that I blocked it off back at the beginning of the Age of Chaos," she explained, using the strangely singsong monotone she specifically reserved for history lessons. (It might have originated as an imitation of Lailah.) "To minimize the effects of the malevolence on the outside world."

"It's an arduous path," continued Lailah tentatively, bowing her head. "These caverns lead to the Stolat Mountains, of which Rayfalke Spiritcrest is the best-known peak, and…" She glanced sideways at Edna, and Rose knew she was about to mention Eizen—but thought better of it as the earth seraph turned her face away. "A-at any rate," continued Lailah hastily, "we'll eventually come to the Elaine Ruins, which open up around Camlann."

"Then we had better be prepared for anything," responded Alisha resolutely, then hesitated as she glanced over at Rose and Dezel. "Are you two…" she began, and Rose's heart quickened slightly as she thought of how she could possibly put their not-quite-relationship into words—but instead of framing the question in Rose's mind, she instead asked, "Your pact as Shepherd and seraph still stands, right?"

Dezel nodded alongside Rose—that much was undeniably true—yet there was no trace of certainty in his expression. "But I'm not strong enough to use the power of purification anymore," he mumbled, turning his face away in thought or shame. "My blindness was like my oath. Without it…" There was the merest hint of desperation in his voice, and Rose could hear in that note a reckless plan he'd never admit.

"Don't even think about it," she warned Dezel, flicking him in the forehead on an impulse she didn't understand: he winced and swatted her hand away. "Sure, you can live without sight, but it's a part of you now. If you throw it away, Zaveid's gonna be mad."

Dezel stared at her for a long moment, then heaved a sigh. "Nothing gets past you, does it?" he remarked, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he stroked her hair absentmindedly. "All right, fine," he conceded. "I promise I won't make myself blind again. But in exchange, you have to tell me something," he growled half-humorously, taking her by both shoulders and pushing her upright as he sat up beneath her. "What the hell _else_ am I supposed to give up?"

"I'll teach you how to take a proper oath in a little while, Dezel," interjected Lailah. "For now, there's one more important thing to consider. Your Divine Artifact is… _free_ , so I'd advise refocusing your pact." She spoke deliberately, but there was an unmistakable flash of grief in her eyes all the same. "An emotional connection is inherently unstable, and both of you might have died because you couldn't break it," she continued gravely. "We can't afford to take any more chances like that, so please… take the knife."

Even before Lailah said the words, Sorey obediently drew the knife from his bag, handing it carefully to his Prime Lord: she visibly steeled herself before accepting it, then paced over and handed it to Rose so that the blade pointed skyward. "Join hands," she ordered, and Dezel curled his fingers uncertainly around his vessel's. Rose understood his hesitation; she too couldn't help but feel that Lailah plunging them into a ritual like this without so much as asking permission was a little rude… at least until she remembered how long they'd been seeking this very solution.

"As a seraph needs a vessel, so a vow requires a focus," murmured Lailah, so quietly Rose had to strain her ears to hear her ceremonial words. "Thine unbroken pact sustains thee still, born of emotion and borne by the soul—intact, yet divided in each of thine hearts. Between thee is the chosen symbol of thine union, ready to receive and preserve thy shared pulse."

Lailah paused to take a deep breath, mustering her usual passion as facilitator only with an apparent effort. "Shouldst thou accept this Artifact, recite aloud thy true names!" she exclaimed. As Dezel and Rose quietly obeyed as one, a weight she hadn't noticed lifted from her heart, and the knife seemed to become heavier instead… or perhaps that was her imagination. In any case, she could sense that Dezel felt the same thing, and they shared a small smile.

Before Rose could sink down and reassume her role as his blanket, however, Lailah spoke again. "Now, Dezel—come with me, and we can talk about your oath," she remarked, gesturing for him to rise: he looked between her and Rose several times as if silently asking if he _really_ had to get up. Neither of them offered an answer, mesmerized by his eyes' new expressivity… but eventually, reluctantly, Dezel came to his own conclusion. Sliding out from under his Shepherd, he got unsteadily to his feet, and Rose set their knife aside carefully before following suit.

Lailah rested a gentle hand on Dezel's shoulder as he swayed, guiding him gently deeper into the cavern without further ado. "Everyone else, please prepare for the next part of our journey," she announced, glancing back at her other companions as they walked. "Alisha is right; there's no time to waste. Dezel and I will be back as soon as he has taken his oath."

Alisha nodded once and immediately started helping Sorey sort out their supplies… but Rose hesitated, thoughts and questions still whirling through her head. One in particular snagged her attention, but it took her a long time to decide whether she should voice it. Was it too selfish to ask him that? Too bold…?

"Dezel!" cried Rose finally, but as soon as she thought she saw him look over his shoulder, all confidence in her chosen question disappeared like a seraph into its vessel. "D-don't do anything stupid," she decided lamely, staring at the ground. If he traded his heart for strength before she even got the chance to convince him to give it to her instead, she might just lose her mind.

…Then again, even the fact of his continued existence was enough to send her halfway to heaven; whatever aspect of his life he decided to abandon in exchange for the power of purification, she'd survive, or so Rose told herself. After all, she didn't need to hear his heartbeat under her ear every night: she was content simply to know that his heart _was_ beating. Even her human lifespan would hopefully last a long enough time that either of them could change their minds, anyway…

Dezel's laugh echoed back toward the cavern entrance, and Rose peered after him to find that he and Lailah had vanished from view. "O ye of little faith," returned his voice, sardonically affectionate. "Whatever I give up, it's not going to be you. Now, shut up and stop fretting," he added, rushing on before she even had time to be stunned. "I've got an oath to take."

Rose still wasn't sure she'd heard the first part correctly until she jolted back into her body and noticed Mikleo's eyeroll, Edna's raised eyebrows, and Sorey and Alisha's ill-suppressed smiles. Blushing faintly at their wordless corroboration, she found herself momentarily too breathless to tell them off, but she felt far from annoyed or even embarrassed; rather, she couldn't keep herself from grinning. Dezel had understood, and he'd spoken directly to her insecurities without so much as a hesitation. If that wasn't an encouraging sign, she didn't know what was.

But as the wind stirred like a breath in the mouth of the cave, Rose remembered the price that had been paid for this honest hope and happiness, and a mist of serene sorrow momentarily froze her heart in place and dampened her rising spirits. "Thank you, Zaveid," she murmured, sincerely—and the light storm breeze ruffled her hair playfully as if in response.

* * *

 _Longer chapter than anticipated, but hey, resolution of a sort has been reached for now. Anyway, you have no idea how often I've wanted to assign lines in this chapter to Zaveid, but whenever I reach for him, I just find this hole in my heart. I forget sometimes that the pain of loss, even fictionally speaking, is of an enduring kind._

 _ **queenofcats81:**_ _Yeah, well, as Zaveid said, a single death isn't always too high a price to pay for salvation. As for that story, it's probably gonna have to simmer on the back burner for a loooooooong time before I get any kind of inspiration for it._

 _ **graveMonera:**_ _I'm actually kind of glad you ended up crying, not because I'm a sadist, but because I had been somewhat worried I hadn't been able to capture the right tone for the chapter. It's difficult killing off a character as flippant as Zaveid because he goes out on such a high note, and there's Dezel's purification to consider, so it seemed like less unadulterated shock and sorrow than Dezel's dragonization. I'm really going to miss writing him, but I suppose there's the side-story to consider once this story is over…_

 _ **Linake11:**_ _As mentioned above, I'm glad for that internal conflict—and doubly so that you perceive it as a mark of good writing instead of, ya know, schadenfreude. Nice puns, but Edna would hit you for them. Probably Rose herself might pick up some of the teasing slack. And yeah, "My Silver Lining" originally fit Dezel and Rose in canon, but I realized that since Zaveid is fulfilling that role in this story (and the style and the rest of the lyrics kind of fit him better), that's his requiem instead. And I'd like to thank you once more for the gorgeous cosplay! Link's on my profile, as usual!_

 _ **The Final Conduit:**_ _Yeah, as far as I'm concerned, the DLC was a cluster(bleep) of underdeveloped dynamics and half-formed ideas. Mostly, I resent the stereotype that girls are always catty to one another and there's always a layer of rivalry under the friendship. If Rose and Alisha hadn't ever met before, I'd be able to see it, but as it is, they met in-canon and were actually on friendly terms and all that, so… yeah. I'm at a loss. As for Symonne, I hate her too much to feel much sympathy; being "lost" is no excuse for all she did to us. I prefer to pretend I killed her in-canon, so I've been blocking the moments she turned up in the DLC out of my memory._

 _ **ViolettaXYZ:**_ _Ah, well, I'd say 'my pleasure' with regard to cultivating your feelings about Zaveid, but that'd be a lie. Yeah, he got severely underdeveloped in canon, but I could see enough similarities to Zelos that I loved him anyway, albeit somewhat less so. (His voice helps.) Both are deeper than they let on, but I perceive the main difference as that Zelos is a liar and Zaveid tells the truth. That is, Zelos's persona is primarily a protective façade born of cynicism and self-loathing, whereas Zaveid's carefree and devil-may-care attitude is much more genuine and thus more balanced with the rest of his personality. That makes them juuuust different enough that I can't write them interchangeably, which is different from what I initially anticipated. Anyway, I could probably go on for paragraphs doing a ridiculously in-depth character study, so I'll quit while I'm behind instead of comparing and contrasting further._

 _ **NaotoShirogane:**_ _Here's more for you._

 _ **PoeticShadows:**_ _Of course I appreciate reviews as in-depth as yours! The fact that something I've written can make you formulate so many opinions is a compliment in and of itself, honestly, so don't worry about it. As for Lafarga, that little scene was all in Rose's head; she was using the power of the ring to subconsciously recreate him in an illusory form while she recovered from being hit. I'm assuming that Lafarga suffered a mortal wound way back when he became hellionized, so purifying him wasn't equivalent with resurrection. I understand if that ended up being confusing, but the point is that they are in fact one seraph down… just like in canon._

 _ **Guiding Mist:**_ _I said I'd *try* not to make you cry, and I offered no guarantees! I hope this chapter makes up for it at least a little…_


	48. Chapter 47: Wolf in Shepherd's Clothing

As it turned out, the first leg of their journey to Camlann was far more tedious than treacherous. Rose found herself missing the dangers she had anticipated—not only because she would have liked to keep herself sharper if they were heading to their final confrontation, but because the silence was killing her. Dezel may not have given up his voice altogether, thank gods, but he still flatly refused to tell her what he _had_ given up.

Not that Rose had pried about his oath, of course, in an effort not to seem overbearing, but her curiosity was beginning to get the better of her… especially since Dezel had seemed on edge ever since his awakening. He had never been especially talkative, but as the hours and days passed by, he actively started avoiding social interactions. More than once Rose caught him staring at nothing, lost in thoughts she dared not interrupt.

Perhaps that was for the best, however; Dezel may not have _changed_ , exactly, but he spoke even more directly than usual—and, more problematically, he seemed even less able to tactfully navigate sensitive conversations. At first, she was willing to believe that he was simply becoming reaccustomed to being a seraph; but as the days wore on, she couldn't help but wonder whether this strange tension that had arisen between Dezel and his companions had something to do with his oath.

His current behavior was a stark and unwelcome contrast from his uncharacteristic warmth upon awakening, and the oath was the only thing Rose could think of that might have changed it. Still, she couldn't bring herself to mention it; as much of a taboo as it was to break an oath, it seemed just as heinous to inquire after it. She could only keep walking in the darkness and the silence, taking in her dreary surroundings and wishing Dezel had to walk beside her again, if only so she could hold his hand.

Thankfully, it wasn't more than a week before they reached the end of Cornic _Formerly_ -Sealed Caves, as Edna had so spitefully begun to call them. Rose never thought she'd be so happy to see a stormy sky as when they finally stepped out into the open. Granted, her good mood was in no small part due to Sorey's declaration that he was going to go hunting as soon as they got out of the caves.

Their food supplies had dwindled to uncomfortably low levels, and cave-dwelling monsters had never made for especially appetizing meals, even with Edna directing the cooks. The prospects of eating real food again made Rose's mouth water, but unfortunately, her joy was short-lived: an almost tangible heaviness settled down suddenly on her core as soon as they set foot outside the cavern, and she clutched at her chest automatically.

Evidently, the others felt it too, and perhaps more acutely still. "This malevolence," murmured Lailah's voice from within Sorey. "It feels… familiar. But more powerful than ever."

"Is it Eizen?" asked Dezel, emerging to take off his hat and scan the skies.

Edna flinched at the unexpected mention of her brother, and Sorey rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I don't know," he remarked, glancing up at the murky cliffsides. "It's strong, but I'm not sure it's _dragon_ strong, and I can't tell where it's coming from."

"So what you're saying is there's nothing we can do about it for now," remarked Edna's voice sardonically, "but if it finds us, we'll show it the fight of its life."

"Pretty much," responded Sorey, and though his tone was light, his countenance was serious. "Either way, I'll still need to go hunting," he added, holding up Mikleo's Divine Artifact. "We're not going to have anything to eat tonight if I don't. Can you three hold down the fort while I'm gone?" he added, glancing between his corporeal companions.

"Isn't it dangerous to split up like this?" pressed Alisha, wide-eyed and anxious. "Can't you send one of the seraphim hunting, or something? Or can't we all go?" She glanced around at Rose and Dezel as if asking for corroboration, but Rose could offer none. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"I've hunted before, and they haven't," pointed out Sorey simply. "I'm not going far, and you know Rose has the power of purification," he assured Alisha, when she didn't seem especially convinced. "It's easier to hunt on my own, and I won't really be alone as long as the seraphim stay inside me. I'll be back before you know it."

"Don't go getting into any trouble, got it?" asked Rose, putting her hands on her hips. "If you do, I'll show you trouble when you get back." He wasn't allowed to leave her out of the good fights, especially since they'd established long ago that of the two of them, it was _her_ job to take life.

"Don't worry; we'll keep him safe," sighed Mikleo's voice. "And if something happens while we're gone, just make as big a racket as you can, and we'll come straight back. Or you can come find us, I guess," he added. "It's not like we know the territory well enough to stray too far."

Alisha had nothing to say to this, only stared at the ground, and Rose exhanged a glance with Dezel—made more satisfying by his newly restored sight. "See you in a little while," smiled Sorey, and turned away.

* * *

They sat quietly, as seemed to be usual nowadays, for an unbearably long time. Alisha took to studying the Celestial Record at first, while Dezel lay back to stare at the cavern ceiling. Rose, however, remained motionless as she gazed down at him, lost in thoughts of… her family. It had been a long time since she'd allowed herself the mental space to think about them, because she knew no good could come of speculation. Were they doing all right…?

A movement in Rose's peripheral vision startled her: how long had it been since they'd all sat down? Half an hour? Alisha had taken up her spear with the intent of polishing it, but hesitated and glanced between Rose and Dezel. She'd been among the first to notice the wild variability of their interactions, from closer-than-friends to the silent treatment. "I'll be back in a moment," murmured Alisha, bowing slightly, and took her spear and rags outside.

"Hey, are you okay?" asked Rose, taking advantage of the opportunity she'd given as soon as she left, and Dezel glanced over at her—ashen light reflected in green glassy eyes. "You've been acting kinda… weird, lately," she added. "Distant. You know I'm here for you, so if you want to talk…"

She trailed off, inviting him to continue, but Dezel only looked away self-consciously. "That's pretty sweet of you, considering, but there's honestly not much you can do," he told her, his voice edged with a sigh, and the word 'sweet' on his lips sent a shiver up and down Rose's spine (even mitigated by 'considering'). "I'm just getting used to being me again. And seeing. And having a functional domain for once," he explained. "Don't worry about it."

"I'm _going_ to worry about it, and you can't stop me," Rose told him, scrutinizing his expression. "I'm your vessel. It's my job to worry." Something was distinctly amiss, but she couldn't put her finger on it; he'd become much better at veiling his emotions lately. Come to think of it, maybe that _was_ the problem…

"It's nothing," responded Dezel shortly, and Rose recognized her defeat as he shut down completely and turned away from her. "I'm just thinking, that's all."

"Seems all you've been doing is _thinking_ lately," responded Rose, emphasizing the keyword as delicately as possible to make clear her disbelief, but realized an instant later she had come across accusatory instead. "Must be something important, then. I won't ask," she added more gently, taking up her whetstone, "but I wish you'd think a little less."

"Believe me, I wish I _could_ think a little less," muttered Dezel darkly, and Rose opened her mouth to say the same of herself… but Alisha's voice interrupted her from outside, calling Sorey's name in clear relief. Rose barely looked up from her sharpening at first, reflecting on how why her fellow Shepherd had returned so soon—but froze at the response.

"Guess again," laughed an all too familiar voice, slightly distorted, and Rose's heart almost stopped at the sound. Not Sorey. _Far_ from Sorey. As she peered outside, an illusion of the Shepherd unraveled like threads under her careful gaze, revealing a lanky body and foxlike face she thought she'd never see again. Those sharp features, that bushy hair… it _couldn't_ be…

"Oh, sweet Squire," crooned Lunarre, reaching out and brushing Alisha's cheek softly, and Rose jolted to action at his subtle threat and sprang to her feet: Dezel narrowed his eyes and followed suit, preparing his pendulums for battle. "How soft you are; how _tender_."

"L-Lunarre?" gasped Alisha, backing away as swiftly as she had approached, and bent to reach for her spear. "But you look like—" she began, but cut herself off, shaking her head in agitation. "Why are… you… here?" she stammered lamely.

"Believe me, darling, I wish I wasn't," giggled Lunarre somewhat nervously, sauntering forward. "It's just that your friends stole something of mine, and I want it back." Though he was most likely talking about the ring, something in his voice told Rose he was referring just as much to _her_ , and she shuddered convulsively at the thought.

"Go on, strike me down," added Lunarre—but Alisha hesitated, shifting her grip, breathing more deeply… steeling herself, thought Rose, for something that should not be unpleasant. He must not have reassumed his usual form in her eyes if she couldn't bring herself to hurt him, she thought: sure enough, when she focused, she found him eerily clad in Sorey's translucent form. (How could it be so much easier to see the truth than the illusion…?)

"Just as I thought," snickered Lunarre, taking a couple steps forward—as deliberate as any dancer. "I've never met a more pitiful excuse for a princess in my life. You already murdered your master, didn't you?" he sneered. "A murderer shouldn't have anything against killing me too."

Alisha's breath caught, and she hefted her spear in a warning not to come any closer, but could say nothing. "You have no right to call yourself a knight," snarled Lunarre, his smile gone. "You're so afraid to get blood on those crisp white gloves that you put your so-called friends in danger while you waste time wondering whether you're right. On the battlefield, there is no right or wrong," he added. "There's only dead or alive. Which will you be?"

"I'll be alive!" exclaimed Alisha.

"Then prove it," hissed Lunarre, and lunged for her with grasping hands. Rose sprinted at him in the same instant, Dezel behind her with his winds at her back, and shielded Alisha at the last second—knocking his arm out of the way, slashing at his throat and missing by an inch.

Lunarre leapt back almost lazily and laughed, flames sputtering to life in both palms. " _There_ you are, boss," he told her gleefully, apparently excited to see her. "I figured you'd come out to play eventually."

"I just can't let Alisha get all the glory," snapped Rose, rolling her knives in her hands. "This is as much my fight as hers. After all, I killed you," she added, stabbing with both blades, but Lunarre swerved out of the way. "You're supposed to be dead!"

"Yeah, well, I've never been the best at doing what I'm _supposed_ to do, boss," growled Lunarre, all traces of mirth vanishing from his cold golden gaze, and his fire flickered brighter as if to compensate. "Or so you always told me."

"I don't know how you survived, but that ends now," hissed Rose. "Alisha!" The princess nodded once and charged into the pelting rain in search of Sorey—spear at the ready in case of further trouble.

Dezel, meanwhile, circled around behind Lunarre, flicking out a pendulum to wrap around his wrist as he turned in the beginnings of giving chase. "Oh no you _don't_ ," he grunted, yanking him off-balance… but Lunarre barely staggered, tugging at the wire to pull Dezel forward before he could retract it. Rose thrust forward and aside, allowing her aggressive energy to jut up from the ground in spikes of ice like dragons' fangs, forcing Lunarre to let go.

"Nice," grinned Lunarre appreciatively, flipping backward with disturbing ease as Dezel regained his footing. "Now it's my turn!" he called from midair, shrieking in laughter, and pounded both his fists into the ground to create an explosion: the world slowed down, and Rose backstepped several times in quick succession as the radius rapidly increased.

"Why _are_ you here?" demanded Dezel through clenched teeth, skirting around the blast and engaging Lunarre in closer combat: Rose rushed to his aid, rising into the air and filling every opening with illusory knives. Lunarre dodged every one with ease, perpetually on the move—forcing Dezel to readjust his aim constantly, using their tactics against one another.

"I told the princess already; weren't you listening?" returned their adversary, grinning lopsidedly, and slashed at Dezel with fiery claws. (Was it just Rose, or had he become more animal since the last time she saw him?) "I just needed to see the boss again. I'm sure you know the feeling!"

"Shut up!" shot back Dezel, dodging a burst of fire accompanying the emphasized word.

"Has anyone ever told you your comebacks are weak?" snickered Lunarre, dodging out of the way of pendulum and knife, lightning and gale. Yes, he had definitely become stronger since the last time Rose had seen him, able to dodge most moves with relative ease. In fact, Lunarre scarcely seemed to tire at all over the next several minutes, his movements unpredictable and his attacks infrequent.

Rose understood his strategy well enough to know that combining forces and letting him make the first moves was the best way to find the right moment and turn the tables, but Dezel insisted on keeping himself separate from her and unleashing a constant barrage of spells and pendulums instead. Having fought Lunarre multiple times before, he should have known better by now, but Rose couldn't correct him if he refused to say her name; she had little choice but to cover him every time.

Before long, she found herself as frustrated and exhausted as her seraph; even if they couldn't be said to be _losing_ since Lunarre seemed so wholly uninvested in attacking, this battle was going nowhere. "Where the hell is Alisha?" exclaimed Dezel eventually, pendulums whipping viciously in a wind of his own making: one of the heads severed a few strands of Lunarre's hair, but otherwise, they made no contact. "She should be back by now!"

"I don't _know_!" panted Rose, pushing herself back to her feet after barely sticking the landing of a phoenix dive. "I'd look for her, but I'm a little busy at the mo—!" She staggered, her breath vanishing, and only after she doubled over did she register the fiery fist in her diaphragm.

"That's enough of _that_ ," growled Lunarre, his flames fading, but Rose barely heard him. He definitely hadn't been there a split second ago; had he always been able to move that fast? Had he been toying with them this whole time, looking for a specific opportunity, or…?

" _Rose_!" roared Dezel, racing forward, but Lunarre pulled her back roughly against his body, holding her hostage—forcing her knives out of each hand in turn, and pushing one of her arms up behind her back. Rose could not gasp as he played with her other fingers, but shivered all the same, until she realized he was feeling for…

Lunarre twisted the ring on her finger, and she found herself focusing intently on a desperate attempt to draw from its strength—ignoring Dezel's true name in her mind, a silent and impossible urge for her to armatize. Even had Rose had the breath to call his name, the ring demanded her complete attention; he had started pulling it off, slowly, teasingly…

Just as it reached the pad of her finger, the ring heated and sparked, but the usual burst of power produced—no effect. Rose frowned as the sensation ebbed away again, along with most of her strength; it felt distinctly as though she had pushed through something, but _what_? She could tell Lunarre must have felt it too, because he hesitated… and that was his fatal mistake.

No sooner did Rose realize that she had started breathing again did another, more insistent impulse cross her mind, and she gave voice to her seraph's name half-consciously: **"Lukeim Yurlin!"** exclaimed Rose and Dezel together, and he finally flowed into her.

Armatizing was like an embrace, this time, as though they had been reunited after years of separation. Their souls intertwined, their hearts combined, and Dezel's life force replenished and balanced Rose's energy. He bent to her will (sheepishly, she thought) as she urged him wordlessly to wait—to dash forward or flip back—to lead Lunarre in the dance he sought, a storm of wind and fire, as the battle began in earnest.

To bring a seraph's power into a human body was to become timeless, thought Rose, as the fight settled into a rhythm, every sensation blurring together: the pulse of an explosion, the breath of a gale, the jolt of evasion, the tang of… blood. At last, their rain of shining blades hit their mark, piercing his foot, his arm, his shoulder. Lunarre reeled from the impact, even as they dissolved into particles of light, howling through grit teeth, and then—silence.

…A spear. The blade had been buried so forcefully in his chest that he had been run almost completely through. Lunarre gave a ragged gasp of shock and pain, coughed red, grasped at the spear lodged in his chest to no avail; Rose followed the blade to the shaft, and the shaft to its wielder, and found Alisha.

"That's for the roses," she snarled, and pulled her blade from his body: he collapsed, chest heaving, lifeblood pouring from his chest. She felt Dezel's realization that Sorey had returned as well, and was staring from some distance away; they must have returned so short a time ago that there had been no time to register their arrival. "You two do the rest," added Alisha, eyes blazing, but there was something fearful behind the veil. "I think… I'm going to be sick."

Even as she spoke, she clutched her stomach and strode stiffly away. Rose and Dezel separated to exchange a glance as they flanked Lunarre, and Sorey laid his hand on the hilt of his sword in her peripheral vision as if in response to some threat, but stood down as they both shook their heads. Lunarre was… dying, and this time, Rose knew it in her soul.

Her eyes burned as he smiled the ghost of his old smile. "Not again," murmured Lunarre hoarsely, his voice cruel and affectionate, and her breath caught in recognition of the phrase. Those had been the first words he'd ever said to Rose, as she knelt over him after beating him up for the second time, just like this—

Their eyes locked. His slit pupils were like the dark hands of a stopped clock… but even as she watched, they seemed to fly back through their history, his life flashing through her eyes as well as his. Time collapsed into a single instant, and she bowed her head, closing her eyes briefly. Here was Lunarre the renegade, Lunarre the exile, Lunarre the lonely.

 _How about it?_ asked his voice from long ago, accompanied by an arrogant grin as he rested a foot on their target's body. He'd stalked them for months; it was only a matter of time before he caught on—so they'd had little choice but to include him in the Scattered Bones, and pray they could correct his wayward nature. Perhaps they should have killed him instead.

…No; they couldn't have. She still remembered Lunarre's face in the firelight, oddly innocent as he concentrated on charcoal sketches of Rose and roses, birds and bees. _You give me something to live for_ , he'd told her once, eyes aglow, when she'd praised his work; she'd never been able to draw much, herself. _I just wish I could do more._ As Lunarre brandished his latest masterpiece at her, Rose had assured him that there was no need. Perhaps she shouldn't have.

More and more often, he'd brutalize his victims… and whenever the Scattered Bones had confronted him, he inevitably insisted that his targets deserved to suffer for what they'd done. And who could say whether it had been before or after this point, perhaps a year ago, that he had embraced his inner malevolence?

One way or another, one time or another, Lunarre had been corrupted—and that was really all that mattered. He'd used the skills Rose had helped teach him to further his own evil ambitions; he'd brought harm to everyone she'd ever loved; and he'd even marked an innocent with malevolent thorns. The scar on her neck ached as she pressed it, but the malevolence she felt was not her own; the final blow had not been hers to make this time, and there was no conflict remaining in her soul.

Still, she couldn't help but have regrets. If only things had gone differently, it might not have had to be like this. "May these weary bones find peaceful rest," whispered Rose—but as she and Dezel raised their hands over him to prepare the rite of purification, the world around them turned gray and lifeless, and the ring burned suddenly: she turned her head so sharply it cracked. Not her. Not now.

Symonne sashayed toward them from some distance away, shaking her head and tutting as she smacked her wand into her hand. "I expected better of you, Lunarre," she remarked, coming to a halt and gazing down at him unreadably: Sorey tensed, drawing his sword, and advanced cautiously as his seraphim emerged ready for battle. "But then again, I suppose you were a good plot device while you lasted. Even if you _did_ stop reporting as planned," she added pointedly, "not to mention failing to retrieve my ring."

"Come on, you heartless bitch, let him rest in peace," flared up Rose, and Lunarre stirred faintly, brow twitching in a frown of apparent confusion: Dezel and Sorey both echoed the gesture as they stared at her. Of course Lunarre deserved every word, but it seemed needlessly cruel for them to be among the last things he heard—this coming from someone who'd twisted the knife last time she'd tried to kill him. "Butt out," she added. "Nobody asked you. This is a family matter."

" _You_ haven't changed, I see," remarked Symonne, tilting her head expressionlessly. "All bark and no bite."

"We'll see exactly how much bite I have _after_ I lay this bastard to rest," snapped Rose, resting her hands over Lunarre's chest and closing her eyes: reluctantly, Dezel closed his glaring eyes and focused on purifying Lunarre.

No power on this earth, Symonne's or otherwise, could stop Rose from initiating the rite of purification; without the bite mark interfering with her judgment, her old morals as leader of the Scattered Bones seemed more important than ever. No matter someone's actions in life, all deaths ought to be equal, and peaceful. Lunarre deserved no less than execution, but a purified departure meant she could lay to rest the man he once had been as well as the hellion he had become.

Sorey and the seraphim must have advanced, because Symonne's voice shifted in space as she spoke, addressing someone else: "I have no interest in fighting you right now," she sighed. "But if you're really _that_ impatient, you won't have to wait much longer. I'll meet you at the gate to Camlann." Rose could feel her domain vanish with her last, ominous words: "Be ready."

"Oh, I am," growled Dezel furiously under his breath, assembling the power of purification in a sphere of wind; Rose could practically taste the bitter resentment in his words. The only reason he hadn't gone after her here and now was because of his duty as Prime Lord. As the ball of life-giving air seeped into Lunarre's chest through his wound, he writhed suddenly in agony, and the concentrated purity dissolved again.

"Stop _fighting_ us," hissed Rose, digging her fingernails into Lunarre's skin—already cold, and paler even than usual—as she held him down. "Are you gonna give up and die a hellion on the say-so of someone who cares so little she'll turn up at your deathbed and call you a plot device?"

Lunarre gave a humorless and instinctive laugh, thick red trailing out the side of his mouth. "Boss, it _hurts_ ," he whined, his voice broken. "It hurts too much. I'm not st-strong enough for… th-this." He retched feebly, breaths rattling as he coughed. "I was only… supposed t-to—keep tabs," he added, struggling for air. "D-didn't think she'd… tell me to… take back the r-ring. Think she's… scared of… you…"

The last word was cut off by a shallow squealing gasp of pain as Rose and Dezel redoubled their efforts—and this time, the purification took. Lunarre gave an inhuman screech as the malevolence left his body through his mouth like smoke dissolving into light, but Rose refused to let her focus break a second time… even when he crumbled into ashes, as though he'd burned from the inside out.

"Thank… you," sighed Lunarre's voice, the last remnant of his consciousness, and his presence scattered at last. As if in a dream, Rose raised her fingers to touch the scar on her neck once more, only to find that his malevolence had all vanished, and the bite no longer pained her at all.

She wished she could say the same for her heavy heart.

* * *

 _Oh. My. God. I'm so sorry. I don't think I've ever let this story sit for that long before. I really, really hope it was worth it. Any explanations I offer will seem like excuses, but I still gotta explain that school started and I've been the least Zestiria-inspired person in the world lately. Anyway, fun fact: my oneshot "For the Love of Wildflowers" was actually inspired by that situation, not vice versa. And speaking of which, as has become usual, Lunarre's requiem is up on my profile._

 _ **Linake11:**_ _Eh, Dezel didn't reveal everything, but he actually did hit all the important parts._

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Can't wait for the next chapter, huh? Hope you ended up being able to, since this came a lot later than anticipated._

 _ **Anony-Moose:**_ _Well, Dezel never really *acted* blind, so I'm not totally sure sight will fluster him too terribly much, especially since he could probably see when he was inside Rose's body. And yes, I was thinking of including Zaveid's last words in the sidequest story._

 _ **ViolettaXYZ:**_ _Heh, no need to apologize! And I believe you about suspecting the sight restoration sooner, so no worries, haha._

 _ **NaotoShirogane:**_ _You have just described my feelings towards this entire story._

 _ **Guest:**_ _If you're telling me about the development team's shipping preferences fifteen chapters into an *AU fanfiction*, I don't know what to tell you._

 _ **CWolf2:**_ _Thank you! :)  
_


	49. Chapter 48: Hidden Scars

"All's well that ends well, I suppose," murmured Lailah, the first anyone had spoken since they'd settled down for the night.

The party had kept traveling for a few hours after Sorey's return, but only because they all needed something to do with themselves. Lunarre's blood and ashes had been washed away mere moments after his soul had scattered, but Rose and Alisha still sensed the stain of death hanging over the sodden earth, so Sorey had suggested camping elsewhere.

"Yes, all's well that ends well," agreed Alisha, her voice a sigh as she sat back wearily. She'd finished her food first and eaten more than the others besides, but Rose didn't blame her for a second; the Squire's stomach had been even emptier than the others' ever since she struck that killing blow, and she hadn't trudged through any less mud to get here.

"Maybe tomorrow will be less _eventful_ ," suggested Mikleo, heaving a sigh. "Of course, Sorey will have to go hunting again, but if Symonne said she'd wait for us at the gate to Camlann… that's a few days away, isn't it?"

"At the very least," put in Lailah, gazing somberly into the heart of the campfire. "I doubt she'll be able to affect us from that distance, so long as she intends to stay there."

Rose pursed her lips. "Was she using her illusions?" she asked, glancing around at the group. Her own interactions with Symonne had thankfully been brief, if infuriating as always, but she didn't recall seeing any displays of power. Then again, she remembered abruptly, she _had_ felt something in the ring…

Alisha nodded hesitantly. "I think Symonne kept me from finding the others," she responded. "Buying L-Lunarre time to get the ring back. But then, her domain just… vanished, with no explanation. Not all of it," she clarified. "Just enough for me to see through it, to Sorey."

"So that's it," mumbled Rose mostly to herself, turning the ring thoughtfully on her finger. She'd punched an Alisha-sized hole in a seraph's blessed domain, and she hadn't even lost consciousness. Had it become easier, she wondered, to use Symonne's abilities against her…?

"I—I'm sorry," burst out Alisha, sounding as though she'd been meaning to say it for hours, and Rose jerked her head up to find her scowling intently at the fire. "I… should have left him to you. I shouldn't have presumed…"

"Hey, don't worry about it," interrupted Rose, scooting closer to her and resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Last time I tried to kill him… his malevolence almost got to me. Could have been a lot worse," she added, "but it was a closer call than I'd have liked. He always did get under my skin, some times more literally than others." Her fingers found the bite mark on her neck once more, and again it did not ache as she pressed it: he was gone.

There was a long and dark silence, which—to Rose's slight surprise—Dezel shattered. "Well, all things considered, I'd call today a success," he shrugged. "Alisha pulled out a thorn in our side. Sorey brought back some food, just like he said he would. I don't see why you're all so depressed," he added, but his voice had become quiet, and he was staring at his boots as if talking to himself.

If Dezel meant to lighten the mood, his words could not have elicited less cheer if he'd tried; Rose winced at his tactlessness. He'd never liked Lunarre, but to refer to him as nothing more than a thorn in their side—didn't he know she had once thought of him almost like a brother? He'd traveled with the Scattered Bones; he'd seen their bond for himself…!

Edna, however, had a different (and less obvious) problem with Dezel's phrasing. "You used to be the first to complain about referring to animals as 'food'," she observed, narrowing her eyes and twirling her parasol, and Mikleo moved out of the way to avoid getting smacked. "Did being a dragon give you a taste for killing, or something? Is that it?"

"Of course not," retorted Dezel, sounding as though he was trying to snap at Edna, but he looked distinctly unnerved for reasons Rose couldn't quite place. "Maybe I'm just… hungry enough to make an exception," he added, but he didn't meet anyone's eyes, and his words sounded almost like a question. Uncertain, uneasy, and almost desperate.

"I don't think I brought back enough for _all_ of us," added Sorey, looking alarmed. "Just those of us who need it to live. This is all there is," he added, gesturing around the campfire. Most of their makeshift plates had already been emptied.

"O-oh," was Dezel's only response, more awkward still, and he turned several shades redder as he fidgeted with the brim of his hat. "Never mind, then." Even as he spoke, Rose offered him a leg of whatever bird she was munching on—but he either chose to ignore her, or didn't notice, so she shrugged and bit into it herself. If he didn't feel like salvaging some of his dignity, that was on him.

"Can I… ask you something?" began Sorey after a brief hesitation, and Dezel nodded once, with an apparent effort—as though dragging himself out of his thoughts. (He really _was_ thinking much too much, reflected Rose, more and more alarmed.) Sorey cleared his throat, his gaze hardening into solemn resolution. "What's it _like_ , being a dragon?"

Dezel tilted his head, his expression becoming guarded. "Why do you ask?"

"If we're going to face Eizen on our way, I'd like to know what he feels," responded Sorey quietly, glancing over at Edna's stony countenance. "That's all." Though his words were simple and true and revealed no ulterior motives, Rose guessed he was as curious and concerned about Dezel's subtle shifts in personality as she, and that perhaps his experiences as a dragon had affected his mentality as a seraph.

Dezel gave a humorless bark of laughter. "If you're that curious, you're going to be disappointed," he responded, shaking his head. "I remember transforming, and I remember Zaveid's last words. But as for everything in between… it's like no time passed at all."

"I… see," responded Sorey, looking crestfallen. "Thanks anyway."

"We're not going to face Eizen," mumbled Edna, so quietly Rose could barely hear it over the crackle of the campfire. As she spoke, she glanced in the direction of Rayfalke—shrouded in swirling clouds, visible only by the occasional flash of lightning in the night. "I don't feel his domain," she explained; her voice seemed strained, an odd combination of relief and disappointment. "My brother… isn't here. He always did like to travel."

"What a time to take a vacation," remarked Rose, frowning. If they fought Eizen sooner rather than later, they'd get more practice dueling dragons, and they could lay him to rest as had basically been Zaveid's dying wish… as well as Edna's living one. Still, if they could manage to avoid conflict on that scale, they would be able to conserve their time and energy, reaching their destination and rectifying the source of all this conflict sooner.

"He might've sensed what happened to me," sighed Dezel, leaning back casually on his hands. "Purification was kind of a one-time offer, going off what Zaveid said—so maybe he got scared you'll have to kill him instead, and flew away."

"Dezel, how could you say such a thing?" gasped Lailah, too shocked even to glare at him. Rose scowled fiercely, her jaw tightening; it wasn't like him to be so flippant. It was one thing to dismiss Lunarre, but _Eizen_?

Dezel shrugged, but something about the motion seemed forced. He seemed as uncomfortable with his own behavior as the others; why was he doing this to himself as well as everyone else…? "It was just an idea," he muttered, pulling his hat down farther over his eyes, and the wind stirred restively around the campfire as he felt everyone staring. "S-sorry…"

No one reacted to his awkward apology, whether to accept or reject it, and they lapsed into a brooding silence. Something was wrong, and even if Dezel didn't want to talk about it, Rose _had_ to know—if only for the sake of maintaining the peace within the group. But how was she supposed to get him to open up when he'd shut down like this…?

"Bedtime?" asked Lailah, after several minutes, and Sorey and Alisha nodded after a brief hesitation. It may not have been good to fall asleep right after mealtime, but Rose could tell they were all struggling to fend off exhaustion both physical and emotional. Besides, the prospects of further conversation seemed unbearable, thanks in no small part to Dezel's perhaps inadvertent insensitivity.

"I'll take the first watch," volunteered Rose, and Dezel vanished into her immediately. Sorey and Alisha nodded, but said nothing, and the seraphim all disappeared into their vessels just as quietly. It was almost as though they were afraid to speak, thought Rose, or afraid of saying the wrong thing. "Good night," she added, in an effort to persuade _somebody_ to respond, but no one—not even her own seraph—answered her.

* * *

That watch seemed like the longest of Rose's life, but only because she had still not found a solution by the time Lailah emerged to take over. It took a long time for her to get to sleep, and even then, her rest was fitful; she'd almost rather have taken the ring's nightmares over the vague and unsettling results of her own imagination.

Rose surfaced many times over the next several hours, but by the time she fully awakened, Mikleo was sitting vigil… and there was an emptiness inside her she couldn't place at first, until she realized Dezel was gone. Fear flashed through her head so that she felt lightheaded, but she forced herself to sit up and stretch. "Where's Dezel?" asked Rose, sitting up and stretching.

"He's _your_ Prime Lord," pointed out Mikleo, crossing his arms. "Lailah didn't even tell me Dezel left, so if he's not inside you, I don't know where he else he'd be." Rose half expected a snide snicker from Zaveid before she remembered he wasn't there to laugh anymore, and her heart ached. They hadn't mentioned him much after his passing, but she could tell they all missed him during the lulls in conversation he had once filled.

"I'm gonna go look for him," decided Rose, already reaching for her knives.

Mikleo pressed his lips together briefly, a frown flitting across his face. "Be safe," he responded as her tired fingers fumbled with the belt buckles. "You know it's dangerous out there. If you're not back in a quarter of an hour, I'm going to wake Sorey so we can look for you."

"No need," remarked Dezel's voice, and Rose and Mikleo both jumped, turning to find him leaning against the side of the cave—hat and jacket glistening from standing in the rain. "What are you doing awake?" he added to Rose, crossing his arms and staring at her in surprise and suspicion. "Go back to sleep. Everything is fine."

"No, it's not," responded Rose, finishing strapping on her knives, and got to her feet. "We need to talk, now," she added, stalking towards the mouth of the cave and grabbing Dezel's arm along the way to drag him outside with her. "I'm not gonna lie awake worrying about you again, and if you're awake too, the least you can do is make sure I don't _have_ to anymore."

"Let _go_ of me," protested Dezel, but something about his words seemed halfhearted—almost resigned. She doubted very much that he was only putting up a show of resistance… but he definitely wasn't as averse to the idea as he could be, since he could easily have disappeared into her and given her the silent treatment if he _really_ didn't want to talk. It wasn't much, but Rose would take what hope she could find.

"Not a chance," she responded, and tugged her seraph after her without so much as a glance back at Mikleo… although she caught Dezel looking helplessly back at him as if to ask for help.

As they strode together through the rain, thick and heavy as ever, Rose's fingers slipped from his slick jacket to his fingers before long. His hand curled reflexively around hers, and though they did not acknowledge their connection in words, Rose felt distinctly breathless at the ease with which they had established it.

"There," suggested Dezel after a minute or so, pointing to another shallow cave in the cliffside, and Rose pulled him beneath the rocky protrusion above it, surprised and grateful for his assistance. Knowing Dezel, he probably just wanted to get this over with as soon as possible, but it was still helpful. As they came to a halt under the overhang, he took back his hand; his influence stilled the winds around them, and Rose took a deep breath of sweet stormy air.

"You're keeping secrets again, just like you did in the early days," she told him, struggling to keep her voice calm so as not to sound too accusatory. "And speaking of which, as your Shepherd, I have a right to know what's wrong. So… what's going on?" she asked, looking him in the eye. "Is this about your oath, or what?"

The wind picked up briefly before Dezel forcibly calmed it again. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered, turning his face away—unable to hold her stare.

"Your _oath_ ," repeated Rose impatiently, crossing her arms. "You know, the self-made contract that lets you use the power of purification so you can keep being my Prime Lord?" she added pointedly. "I know I can't make you tell me, especially if it's something you can't say, but…"

"It's _not_ my oath," responded Dezel, with the kind of immediate certainty that comes only with the truth, and Rose gave a light sigh of relief and exasperation. "I already told you, I'm just getting used to being me again. Leave me alone."

The sense of finality in his words stung more than he probably knew, but Rose persevered. "Yeah, that's what you told _me_ , but you told Sorey you don't remember _not_ being you," she pointed out. "Other than supporting your own domain, and being able to see, what is there to get used to? It should be the same as always, right?"

"That's not what I mean," replied Dezel, clenching his fists in passionate frustration. "I'm not… _myself_ , anymore, so it's taking a long time to get used to being me, because I'm a different me than the me I used to be," he added, adjusting his hat in irrepressible agitation as Rose tried to work out the meaning behind his convoluted words. "If that makes sense."

Rose punched him none too lightly in the arm. Did he really think that being a dragon had changed him at his core in some way? Sure, his behavior was a little weird, but that didn't mean he was a different person or something. "You'll always be you," she told him resolutely. "Even through the hellionization, I can still tell you're the same Dezel we know and… love." Rose couldn't stop her voice from snagging in her throat before the telltale word, and prayed he thought nothing of it.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, Dezel seemed to have bigger problems to think about. "Am I?" he challenged her, his voice disarmingly bitter. "Listen, Rose, can you tell me what makes someone who they are?" he continued, moving on so quickly that she had no time to interject an affirmative. "The things that shape their identity—why they act the way they do."

Rose frowned at him, trying to gauge his reason for asking, but knew without thinking that offering any further questions would cause the end of their discussion once and for all. "Experiences shape personality," she responded tentatively. "Or so Brad always told me, anyway. But what does that have to do with…?"

"Exactly," interrupted Dezel, letting out a long breath, and the air swirled restlessly around them, though no rain made its way into their cavern of secrecy. "Experiences. And… memories."

"Memories," repeated Rose slowly—and a second later, she understood; her heart seemed to shudder to a halt and freeze over. Why Dezel seemed unfamiliar with ideas she knew they'd discussed before; why the little quirks that had previously defined aspects of his personality had vanished—why he had insisted that being himself took some getting used to—

"Do you understand, Rose?" asked Dezel, grimacing, and turned away in sadness or in shame. "There are so many gaps in my memory, I barely know anything about anyone anymore. The things I remember… they're so few and far between, they're almost meaningless." He swallowed, and his voice cracked as he finished, "Who _am_ I, Rose?"

All at once, the artificial distance Dezel had maintained for the last several days vanished, and he was standing right in front of her again. This seraph was the same whom had held her so soon after awakening; this was her Prime Lord, lost and vulnerable. Her throat turned tight at the defeat and distress in his tone, and she took a couple steps forward.

"I told you, you're… yourself, and that's all there is to it," responded Rose, resting a cautious hand on his arm, and was pleasantly surprised when he did not shrug it off. "Don't force yourself to be someone you're not, even if that someone is who you used to be. Okay?"

Dezel frowned in apparent puzzlement. "You're not… angry?" he asked, glancing at her sideways. "That I didn't tell you sooner?"

Rose sighed. "Well, I _was_ , but you kinda took that right away from me as soon as you explained yourself," she told him thoughtfully, and found as she spoke that no traces of her previous annoyance remained, or even her anxiety; in fact, she felt strangely calm. Perhaps this was what it felt like to be at peace; this was reality, and they had no choice but to accept it and move on. "So I'll let you off the hook, since you're suffering for it anyway," she added. "But I don't want you to suffer."

"Says the one who's suffering," muttered Dezel.

"I'm not suffering," countered Rose, raising her eyebrows. Certainly nowhere near as much as Dezel, anyway, and in more minor ways. "I mean, sure, I'm a little disappointed that you can't remember all the same things I can, but you obviously know _me_ , right?" she continued. "Since you said my name as soon as you woke up. And it makes me… happy," she added, choosing her words carefully, "that I'm one of the things you remember."

Dezel gave the ghost of a smile. "Of course you are," he told her, his tone as confident as if that had been a given from the start. "Finding you for the first time has always been one of my earliest memories, but it stuck with me even through the transformation. I don't remember anything before then, though," he added, looking her up and down. "My life… began with you."

"With me," repeated Rose softly, her heart swelling. She _was_ his vessel, she reminded herself; that was probably all he meant—but it was still comforting.

Dezel nodded. "That's my only clear memory till I lost Lafarga and started seeking revenge," he responded. "And then my life goes back back to being hazy till I set out on this journey with all of you. I remember a handful of moments from then on, but other than those…" He trailed off, shaking his head.

Positioning herself more carefully in front of Dezel so that he had to look down at her, Rose grasped both his shoulders firmly. "It's not like a lot of our _exact_ experiences are important right now anyway," she told him, and meant it. "It's enough that you're still here. And if you need me to explain anything, I can fill you in as we go." She braved a smile, squeezing his arms gently. "Sound good?"

Dezel pursed his lips, hesitating. "It's… not like there's just emptiness in between my clearer memories," he explained eventually. "There are a few general thoughts and feelings I can remember, too, that tie everything together. Not always specific, but important." He paused, swallowing in sudden nervousness. "Two in particular. My obsession with revenge, and… then…"

Rose blinked up at Dezel as he turned his face away, flushing noticeably in the dim lantern-light. She didn't want to get her hopes up about what he meant, but the decision didn't seem to be in her hands; her heart rate jumped, and she forgot momentarily how to breathe.

"It still doesn't make sense to me… since I'm missing the memory that first triggered it, if there even was one… but it's all I have at this point," continued Dezel haltingly. "And it's not like me to tell you about it, I know that much—but I'm not the same me anymore, so who gives a damn?" His voice had become a mumble, as though he spoke primarily to convince himself.

Dezel took a deep breath, opened his mouth… and said nothing. For an unbearably long time, cold and breathless, Rose stood in place, still holding his arms. Neither of them moved, or even seemed to breathe; they had become statues, frozen in a half-embrace, doomed to stand in the rain until the end of the world—awaiting some sort of closure.

But forever came more quickly than anticipated; less than a minute of relative silence passed them by before Dezel finally spoke. "R-Rose," he began, and she almost started as the wind curled just as unexpectedly around her, but he gave her no time to brace herself for the coming storm: "I think… I might… love you."

* * *

 _…Finally. Now that everyone has stopped reading because of that month-long hiatus, I'm finally, finally, **finally** giving those [Rose, Dezel] brackets in the summary some use! Good gods, this has been almost fifty chapters in the making. I remember when the entire story was only going to be thirty-five. Gotta love telescoping processes…  
_

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _There's no getting rid of you, is there? :)_

 _ **ViolettaXYZ:**_ _Heh, if I abandon a story I usually stick a warning in the summary. I have no plans of letting this one drop! It's just, as you say, other fandoms grabbed my attention (I'm looking at you, Hakuōki), and school means my time and energy is a lot more limited. But yeah, Dezel has had a lot on his plate, so he's been… standoffish. Thankfully, that seems to have fixed itself right up!_


	50. Chapter 49: Oath

The world turned suddenly airless, and it wasn't because of Dezel's artes. The words were so stark, laid so barely before her, that for a moment Rose wasn't sure how to take them. Even if she had anticipated a confession of some sort, she'd expected him to force her to pry it out of him; those innocent words, open and true, were reasonably close to the last things she thought she'd hear.

"You… _what_?" asked Rose eventually, but her voice sounded high and faint and foreign to her own ears. All other thoughts fled her mind—all lingering grief for Lunarre, all remaining nervousness over the approaching final confrontation with Maotelus, all scraps of concern regarding Dezel's partial amnesia. All that mattered was his answer, and the doors it might open.

…But he did not seem especially eager to repeat himself. "You heard me," responded Dezel, glancing aside self-consciously, and ran his fingers restlessly along the brim of his hat. Rose could sense him withdrawing into himself already, sensing nonexistent disapproval—perhaps even regretting his words. He seemed so convinced that her answer would not be favorable that he didn't even ask how Rose felt in return.

She had to bring him back from the edge before he shut down again. "Yeah, and I wanna hear you say it again," Rose told him, her voice stronger now, full of the excitement flooding her body like electricity. Unfortunately, her assertion had the opposite effect from the one she sought, as Dezel's every muscle visibly tensed.

"What do you _want_ from me?" he snapped, bristling, and dropped his hands to his sides, curling his fingers into fists. "You know I'm not good with words."

In retrospect, it had _not_ been a good idea to test him like that without first making her own feelings clear. Fortunately, there was no shortage of creative ways to convey them: "That makes two of us," pointed out Rose, putting her hands on her hips and edging forward: though Dezel shifted in place uncertainly, he stood his ground. "Just kiss me, you idiot."

He stared at her in apparent disbelief, but his hands relaxed all the same, and he moistened his lips—perhaps unconsciously. "Wh-what?" he asked, his voice hushed and hoarse and incredulous, and he brushed his hair out of his face to get a better look at her. Even after the restoration of his sight, Dezel almost never troubled to make eye contact, since the wind could still tell him everything he wanted to know: if he needed visual input as well, Rose must have really confused him.

"You heard me," she returned, as teasingly as she dared, and quirked an eyebrow in as clear a challenge as she could manage: thankfully, Dezel accepted it. Taking Rose by the shoulders as if to steady either her or himself, he leaned down cautiously, as though expecting her to shy away or push him back or tell him she wasn't serious. Perhaps if she closed her eyes…

Surrendering herself to the wind and the darkness, Rose allowed her other senses to take control, telling her what was happening around her as though she could read the wind herself. It was several seconds before she sensed any change at all in her surroundings, but her heart jumped instantly at the feel of warm breath on her lips just before they finally, _finally_ met his.

At the touch of his mouth, soft and mute and experimental, her eyes opened again without her permission to find that his had shut. Realizing that she had been holding her breath, Rose exhaled slowly through her nose, breathing into his skin, sliding a hand up to his neck to draw him closer… but he broke away as if afraid of something, and stumbled back.

"S-sorry," he told her, flushing. "I… uh, don't think I've done that before, so I didn't know what to do, and—I just—panicked, I guess." He hung his head, pulling his hat farther down over his eyes. "I screwed up, didn't I?"

Rose shook her head, knowing Dezel could feel the motion in the wind. "Not even a little bit," she assured him. It had been a tad chaste for her extravagant tastes, to be sure, but definitely nice. "Figures that it was your first kiss, though," added Rose, tossing him a wry smile. "You're clueless."

"Shut up and tell me you love me," retorted Dezel, pushing his hat back up to look her sharply in the eye. Rose could barely hold his mesmerizing gaze, burning like green fire. She had almost forgotten that she hadn't told him how _she_ felt yet; to her, it was obvious—but kisses weren't enough for men like him, who thrived on promises of the spoken kind.

It took Rose longer than she cared to admit for her to muster the courage to tell the truth. Kissing was easy. Even falling in love was easy. Tying herself down with promises, articulated or implied, was something Rose had always made a habit of avoiding. "Dezel my dear," she began eventually, quiet in her honesty, "if I love anyone, I love you."

She couldn't meet Dezel's eyes for long after she spoke, but she knew he was staring at her, as if he hadn't been the one to ask her to say it, and the winds were the only movement around them until the corner of his mouth twisted into something like a grimace. "I… thought I'd catch you lying," he told her, jerking his head away as if in shame. "You _should_ be lying. Why aren't you lying?"

Distant memories of their talk outside Alisha's manor flashed through Rose's mind. _Why don't you hate me?_ asked his voice in her head, from long ago. _You should hate me_. He probably didn't remember that, of course, but he hadn't changed a bit after all; she almost wanted to cry, or maybe laugh, at the parallels. "Don't you think this is a little sudden?" pressed Dezel, when Rose could say nothing. "You and me, I mean. Together. I don't remember—!"

"I won't force you to give a name to our relationship," murmured Rose, lost in memories and thoughts of the future alike; for the moment, time had as little meaning as if she had transformed into a seraph herself. "If you think it's better for us to stay away from each other till everything's over, that's fine. It's enough to know you love me after all." And, to her own surprise, that much was true. She would wait, and gladly, now that they had at least been able to reveal their feelings.

"I never said that," protested Dezel. "About the staying away from each other, I mean!" he clarified hastily, before Rose had a chance to be shocked or distraught. "I just… it's you I'm worried about. And your feelings, since you remember things I forgot. I don't… I don't want this to be…" He took a deep breath. "I don't want to mess with whatever we have by trying to make it into something it's not. I don't want to move too fast, since I'm a different Dezel from the one you knew."

Rose blinked at him for a few seconds. He was _serious_ , wasn't he? "Oh, Dezel, you don't have to worry about that," she told him, struggling not to smile lest she seem patronizing. "Believe me, even if you _have_ changed a little, I can see you're still the same per—seraph—and besides, it feels like I've been waiting for this my whole life. So if you want me, go right ahead," she added, gesturing to herself. "I'm all yours."

"M-mine," repeated Dezel, stepping forward and reaching tentatively toward her to brush a few stray strands of hair out of her face. "You're… mine?" Rose got the feeling he hadn't meant to ask a question, but his voice curved incredulously up all the same, as if he still couldn't quite believe this was real.

"On one condition," smiled Rose, lifting a hand to caress his cheek as she gazed into his eyes once more. They were so much softer, now that she'd been clear about her own feelings. Still, Dezel did not meet her stare, nor did he respond except to raise his eyebrows slightly. "You're mine now, too. Right?"

"Well, obviously," muttered Dezel, taking her hand in his and bringing it away from his face—and, to her girlishly giddy delight, did not let go. "Nobody else is dumb enough to want someone like _me_."

"Hey, be nice," returned Rose, but she couldn't stop smiling long enough for her words to have their usual bite; then again, with Dezel in this sensitive and vulnerable a mood, that was probably for the best. "I'll be generous and pretend you didn't just basically call me an idiot, but I'm putting my foot down at dismissing my boyfriend as worthless or something."

Dezel blinked, evidently disarmed, and mouthed the word _your_ —but said nothing, clearly waiting for her to say it again. Rose decided she may as well humor him, just this once, but only because he'd managed to put her in such a good mood. "Boyfriend," repeated Rose. "Unless you prefer 'lover', but… that implies a few things we haven't gotten to just yet."

Coughing faintly, Dezel blushed furiously, but did not acknowledge said implications. Instead, he raised a hand to his chin and looked her up and down as if he'd never seen her before. "I guess that would make you my… girlfriend," he mused, mostly to himself. "Weird."

" _You're_ weird," retorted Rose playfully. The apocalypse seemed a world away; all that existed was the two of them, light hearts and quick tongues.

"Yeah, well, you're weirder," shot back Dezel. "And you said you loved me." Rose opened her mouth to make some kind of joking retort, but he wasn't paying attention, and cleared his throat before she could speak. "Could you…" he began, but swallowed. "Say it again?"

"I love you," Rose told him simply, without hesitation. Ordinarily, sappy displays of affection like this rubbed her the wrong way like nothing else, but then again, she'd never really considered herself _in love_ before. In the moment, she'd gladly have told Dezel she loved him a thousand times, just to revel in the truth of it all.

"R-really?" asked Dezel, sounding as surprised as if Rose hadn't already told him so.

"Gods, Dezel, you're so ridiculous," responded Rose, rolling her eyes, but this time didn't even try to suppress her grin. " _Yes_ , I love you. How many times have you made me say it, now?" She did not wait for his reply. "Talking is boring and hard; kissing is fun and easy. I think our course is clear."

Dezel snorted. "Remind me _why_ I love you, because I seriously don't know."

"I don't know either, but you're stuck with me now," laughed Rose, beckoning him forward: Dezel stepped obligingly forward, wrapping both his arms around her and pressing on her back to draw her close. It may not have been particularly comfortable, but Rose knew better than to complain, because his heartbeat pounding rapidly against her chest told her exactly how nervous he was. Still, his lips parted under her gentle pressure, and she smiled into their kiss.

They separated all too soon; he didn't give her enough time to make things interesting—but it was better than breaking away within a few seconds like the first time. "We should be heading back," murmured Dezel, pulling her in closer still and almost smothering her in welcome warmth. Rose nodded hesitantly; she'd been so absorbed in their banter, she hadn't remembered that she and Dezel were both supposed to be asleep. Of course, at this point, she felt like she'd never sleep again, but…

"Should we tell them?" asked Dezel, making an effort at nonchalance, although Rose could still sense the anxiety in his tone. "About us, I mean," he added. "I _don't_ want them to know about my memory. They have enough on their minds as is without worrying about me." Rose frowned; it'd be a lot harder for her to help him out if the others didn't know, and they could fill in details she was missing too—but really, it was his decision.

"They'll figure everything out by this time tomorrow night," she said instead, thoughtfully. "Sorey is _way_ more observant than he lets on, and the others are all pretty sharp too. Even if Lailah doesn't act like it about half the time."

"Fair point," returned Dezel, offering his hand, and Rose took it without hesitation; he led her gently out of the cave, and this time, his wind redirected the raindrops. "I just hope you're ready for whatever they'll say about us."

"They've already said plenty about us before now," remarked Rose, narrowly resisting the urge not to skip alongside him. "If anything, knowing we're actually together might take some of the novelty out of teasing us," she added, grinning outright. "The key is keeping a level head."

"I know enough to know you're not the best at that," chuckled Dezel, squeezing Rose's hand.

"Says the pot to the kettle," returned Rose. "Your temper hasn't gotten any less short since you lost your memory. I mean, it might be for a different reason now, since you're under a lot of stress trying to keep up appearances… but you've always been a little, well, _confrontational_." She decided it was best to speak delicately, so as not to give off the wrong impression. Spiky as he could be, she'd never resented him for it.

Dezel laughed, and Rose's lingering apprehension vanished; she didn't have to worry so much about inadvertently insulting him after all. "You probably know me better than I do." His voice was affectionate, but there was no hiding the serious note in his tone.

"Yeah, well, you used to know me better than I did," returned Rose, the past tense tripping up her tongue. "Turnabout is fair play, and all that. Or maybe all's fair in love and war?" she added, scratching her head. "Some stupid old saying like that. What are you grinning about?"

"You," responded Dezel, but sobered even as he spoke, and frowned into the distance as if anticipating something terrible awaiting them on the invisible horizon. At this point, no matter how curious she was, Rose knew better than to ask what he was thinking about; if he wanted to explain, he'd tell her.

Sure enough, Rose had only to wait a few more fleeting moments before Dezel spoke again. "About my oath…" he began, his voice edged with a sigh and full of more confused emotions than Rose could count. "I know you want to hear what it is, but I can't tell you. Not yet. Sorry."

"Not important?" asked Rose, raising her eyebrows. She knew better than to think for a second that was the case, but at least she could gauge his reaction.

"More important than anything else," Dezel assured her, almost before she had finished speaking, and she felt her expression soften at the truth in his tone. "That's exactly why I can't tell you anything. But don't worry," he added. "I may not be able to say it has nothing to do with you, but it's _not_ going to get in the way—I promise."

Braving a smile up at him, Rose squeezed his hand. "Then I won't ask," she told him resolutely: Dezel's only response was the ghost of a grin, and a faint chuckle she felt in the breeze. In light of his reassurance, Rose discovered that her desire to discover his real oath had all but disappeared. Guardian angel or angel of death, Dezel was hers, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

 _Currently in the midst of a ton and a half of miscellaneous depression/anxiety, so I'm praying I haven't totally lost my touch here. Shorter chapter, because resolution has been needed for nigh on a month, and also because I need to put **something** up so I can feel like I'm still moving forward with this._

 _Anyway, on to cheerier notes: Dezerose party at my place! Assuming I executed it right, this chapter is worth a jamboree, even considering the amnesia… except I have no idea how to throw a virtual party, so I have no clue what I/we should do to celebrate. Any ideas? I'd hold some sort of creativity contest, except it'd be a tie since I love everything you guys do for this story, so…_

 _ **queenofcats81:**_ _Oh, that wasn't meant to be an admonition to people who are too busy to review! I mean, it's not like you don't have good excuses, and you'd probably rather read pretty much anything than go through everything you're dealing with. No worries!_

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Yeah, Dezel's still pretty similar overall, just for different reasons than before. But yeah, Rose's feelings on the matter are pretty bittersweet too. Once she gets over dying of happiness, she'll come back to that._

 _ **linake11:**_ _Hey, review at your own pace! But contrary to popular belief, including Dezel's, he's not a totally different person or anything, so we'll see what happens once he stops being quite so on edge all the time. And of course I'm still motivated to continue the story! People like you have used it as inspiration for all sorts of wonderful things; it'd be nothing short of a sin to let them down!_

 _ **NaotoShirogane:**_ _Heh, you shouldn't have died last chapter. What are you going to do now?_


	51. Chapter 50: True or False

… _Wow. I really don't have the words to articulate the magnitude of my apologies. It's seriously unconscionable to let this story and all of you hang for half a year at a time, no matter the reason; the only excuse I have is that my Zestiria inspiration hasn't been up to scratch, what with off-and-on anxiety and depression and general distraction. But_ _n_ _ow that the second season of the anime and Berseria are both out, I have even more problems to fix, so I just might be ready to give working on this another shot._

 _Rest assured, I still fully intend to finish this story, and a day doesn't go by when I don't guilt myself about my nonexistent update schedule, so sit tight and have patience! I promise it'll be worthwhile… probably. At the very least, it'll eventually be marked "Complete". So, without further ado, here we go again!_

* * *

This time, Rose—not Dezel—was the first one awake to hear the gossip.

There was no need to open her eyes, because she wouldn't see anything even if she did. Her face was still buried in Dezel's chest, her arms tucked up between their bodies for warmth. His heart beat strong and steady beneath her forehead, his breaths deep in sleep, and that was almost enough of a lullaby for her to drift off again.

… _Almost_. Rose's tunic had tugged up so that most of her back had gone cold in the night, but for his slackened arm still thrown about her waist… although even more obtrusive than the chill were the incessant whispers all around. "Do you think we should wake them?" asked Alisha's voice quietly, the first comment Rose could hear clearly enough to note.

"Yeah," responded Mikleo, sounding more than a little exasperated. "We should have left half an hour ago."

"Mikleo, _we_ weren't even awake half an hour ago," put in Sorey mildly. "Come on, let them lie just a bit longer. I can't remember the last time Dezel looked so peaceful, even before he…" Sorey's voice faded as he spoke, as if he'd just realized that turning into a dragon might be considered a sensitive subject.

Thankfully, Lailah chimed in even before her Shepherd trailed off: "And besides, they're _adorable_ ," she gushed, and there was a collective groan from Mikleo and Edna, as though she'd said something similar several times already. "They've spent such a long time circling each other, I think they deserve to bask in one another's company at least a little more."

"I for one don't _care_ how cute they are; they're holding us up," shot back Edna, the sharp tap of her parasol against the ground her only warning before the cavern floor rumbled and rippled: Rose yelped, and Dezel drew her automatically closer, enveloping her fully in his embrace and tensing against her as if to protect her.

"Morning, lovebirds," greeted Edna; as Rose finally turned her head and opened her eyes to glare at her, she found the earth seraph standing over them with an imperious smirk—swinging her umbrella jauntily onto her shoulder once more. "And congratulations."

Dezel let out a long breath, gradually relaxing, and pressed his lips to the top of Rose's head in something like a kiss. "Good morning to you, too," he mumbled into her hair. "What a way to greet the day."

"Tell me about it," agreed Edna sardonically. "Lailah shook us all awake this morning, sobbing something about how beautiful love is."

"Well, it _is_ ," muttered Lailah, glowering, although her expression softened as she looked down at Dezel and Rose again. In fact, she looked almost wistful. Perhaps she was remembering Zaveid's penchant for flirtation, thought Rose, and immediately wished she hadn't.

"Technically, Alisha started it," added Mikleo, crossing his arms irritably, and turned toward the princess with an accusatory glint in his lavender eyes: Rose blinked in surprise. "Didn't you decide to take Dezel's shift last night so you didn't bother them?"

"Knock it off, guys," sighed Sorey, shaking his head as though he too had repeated himself often before they awakened. "Sorry, Rose, but could you eat breakfast on the road? I think everyone's getting a little antsy…"

"Sure thing," responded Rose, reluctantly disentangling her legs from Dezel's, and stretched—but could not bring herself to sit up yet, even after his hand withdrew from around her waist. "Sorry for _holding you up_ , or whatever," she added, spitefully humorous.

As Alisha smiled over at them, Dezel took it upon himself to remove the temptation to stay like they were forever by disappearing into her. "I think we're all happy for you, even if we don't all choose to admit it," remarked Alisha, with a pointed glance in Edna and Mikleo's direction. "I think we all _need_ something to be happy about, given the outlook right now."

"O ye of little faith," remarked Sorey, smiling. "We've got a Shepherd, two Squires, and four powerful seraphim on our side. I know better than to think the battles to come will be easy, but I think we can handle anything that comes our way. Not to undermine you two, or anything," he added hastily, ruffling his already messy hair. "I really am happy you guys finally arrived at your answer."

"I know you are, Sorey," responded Rose, fighting back a laugh, and nodded at him. Bless him; he was so sweet and earnest—the best, most innocent little brother she ever could have asked for.

"Well, I for one am _not_ ," added Edna, as Rose finally mustered the energy to sit up and start packing her things. "It's just another distraction. More importantly, we _are_ the most likely crew to take down the leader of the Five Lords. If we can't do it, nobody can—and that means the world's done for if we fail." She gave a small, grim smile. "No pressure."

"What's got you in such a sour mood?" asked Mikleo, tilting his head. Not that Edna's mood wasn't _usually_ sour, his wary expression added silently, but she was definitely being more vocal about it than usual. "Don't tell me you're jealous of those two, or something."

"You mean _envious_ ," retorted Edna, dodging the question entirely as she shifted her grip on her umbrella in an understated threat. "Jealousy is when someone takes something that belongs to you. Envy is when you want something that belongs to someone else." She swiped at Mikleo lazily, affording him ample time to jump out of the way. "Get it right, Malapropleo."

As Rose got uncertainly to her feet, hefting her rucksack onto her back and glancing over at Sorey in search of instructions, Alisha cleared her throat over Mikleo's furious retort. "Actually, Edna," she began, frowning slightly, "the term 'malapropism' applies more to confusing two words with a similar sou…"

"Oh, look—it seems like Rose is ready now!" exclaimed Lailah, cutting everyone off with a pointed clap of her hands as sharp as it was allegedly delighted. It wasn't like her to interrupt people, but perhaps Mikleo and Edna's lack of enthusiasm and bickering between themselves had worn her down. (She was, after all, widely considered the 'mother' of the group, and that title included the right to give tongue-lashings when necessary.) "Let's go, everyone!"

"And they say _we're_ the ones wasting their time and distracting each other," muttered Dezel, reappearing in a brief gust of wind to stave off the rain on their trek forward, and Rose couldn't help but smile her agreement.

* * *

Not that Rose particularly _wanted_ anything to happen on the last leg of their journey, but the next several days were so uneventful she began to get almost nervous.

Apart from the difficulties to be expected in traversing a forbidding mountain range, they encountered an alarming lack of resistance from Maotelus's forces. Even the intensifying storm and the necessity of blazing their own trail wasn't so bad, with the four seraphim working together to keep the three humans warm and dry. In fact, it felt almost as though the world was trying to lull them into a false sense of security.

Rose knew better than to let her guard down, of course. As soon as they reached the gate to Camlann, wherever that was—even Lailah only knew the general direction they should go, and the bigger landmarks along the way—they'd run into Symonne again, and it was about time they settled their score. In a way, attaining that resolution felt almost more important than the confrontation with Maotelus to come, and she could tell Dezel felt the same.

 _Symonne took my whole life away from me,_ he said during one of their few private moments, the one time Rose asked about it. _I lost most of my past, and the only reason I got my future back is because Zaveid traded his life for it. Of course I want revenge._ Rose couldn't help but laugh at how naturally he'd already assumed his previous personality traits, even if he was missing the exact memories that caused them to fall into place. Dezel was Dezel, no matter his past… or lack thereof.

Evidently, the rest of the group agreed, although Rose supposed that _might_ have been because they didn't know the full extent of his amnesia. As it was, the minor alterations in Dezel's personality were subject to some comment, but little suspicion. As far as the others were concerned, it was only natural for him to have changed a little after a series of such traumatic incidents, so the reason behind the thankfully subtle shift went unquestioned.

Unfortunately, the only real alone time their situation afforded them was during Rose's turns for guard duty, since Dezel refused to interrupt her sleep during his. Although Rose sensed a need within both of them to take advantage of the limited time they had, they spent most of their time in comfortable silence, or talking softly about their innermost thoughts and worries. All but the most chaste displays of affection seemed off-limits, considering Rose's habitual reluctance to get _too_ close—and Dezel's continued self-consciousness, especially in light of their friends' well-meaning taunts.

Given their situation, Rose had expected to be teased, but that didn't mean she had to lie down and take it… especially as Dezel was still definitely on edge. Thankfully, the others' commentary subsided on the third day, once she finally threatened to make out with her seraph nonstop until they shut up. (She'd suppressed her ardor long enough that it was threatening to explode, anyway.) _Since he's a wind seraph and all, I bet we wouldn't even have to pause for breath,_ she growled, glaring at each and every one of her companions. _Either you drop it, or I drop everything and kiss him. Your choice._

But however successful Rose's statement had been in getting the others to back off, despite Dezel's clear incredulity, it was not without its repercussions. They'd stopped early, just outside the Elaine Ruins, so their shifts were just a little longer as recompense… but of course he chose tonight of all nights to fall asleep instead of keeping her company. Or so she thought, anyway: "R-Rose," began his voice quietly, and she jumped as he emerged in a flash of green to sit next to her by the fire. "Did you… actually mean that?"

Rose could only blink at him a few times, still too startled by the suddenness of his appearance to understand what he was talking about. "Huh?"

"What you said," responded Dezel unhelpfully, not meeting her eyes; Rose recalled the same expression on his face several hours ago, accompanied by a blush like the firelight, and realized with a jolt what he was trying to ask. "Earlier. About… kissing me. If they didn't stop."

Rose's heart skipped a nervous beat she didn't understand. It had been easy to threaten to do it, and she wasn't in the habit of making idle threats, so why did it take so much effort to muster her confidence? (It must have been because her _heart_ had never been involved before.) "You wanna find out?"

Dezel moved cautiously closer, and Rose sat her ground, closing her eyes once again in a gesture of subtle encouragement. Since he had chosen to place all his trust in her despite having lost some of the recollections that once reinforced that faith, his consent was more important than ever. There was no better way to ensure that she had it than to ask a question like that, and let him lean in first.

The touch of his lips on hers came more swiftly than expected, somewhere between tender and impatient—conveying an undercurrent of uncertainty Rose recognized as submissiveness. They'd kissed only briefly each time since their first; it was understandable that he'd need her to teach him how the fun stuff worked. Smiling faintly, Rose slid her hand around to the back of his neck to draw him forward: if he was really ready, she'd show him a _real_ kiss.

As Dezel mirrored her own movement and parted his lips at last, Rose felt her skin flush like her name, and pulled him closer still by his lapels; all distance seemed too great. Absorbing herself fully in her senses for the first time since their journey began, she finally allowed her mind to surrender control to her body. She may have been a little out of practice, but Dezel had so little practice to begin with that they were at least on relatively even footing.

Contrary to her flippant assertion, Dezel's native element did little to deepen their breaths. If anything, he seemed to make the air around them vanish even faster, consumed in a burst of experimental passion. In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but marvel at their self-control over the last few days; how could they have denied themselves this small happiness? This was exactly the kind of intimacy Rose had craved for longer than she could ever admit, and she could tell Dezel felt the same, from his eager and hungry touch.

By the time he pulled away an inch or two to catch his breath, Rose lay flat on her back without knowing how exactly she got there, and had to take a few seconds to get her bearings. "You said _you'd_ kiss _me_ ," growled Dezel, although there was a somewhat nervous tremor beneath his affectionate tone. Dezel had pinned her down at some point, fingers loose and the slightest bit shaky around her wrist; it was the closest they'd ever been—not counting the fact that he lived inside her. "Liar."

Giggling giddily, Rose pressed on the back of his neck. "Then let me just fix that," she laughed, her voice barely above a breath, and pulled him down for more: instinctively, he lowered his body over hers, his heat scorching her from less than an inch away. Falling under the sensual spell of unintentional friction, skin on skin and fabric on fabric, Rose lost track of everything around her, letting sensations come and go in fleeting moments.

But as Dezel trailed his lips down her jaw to nestle his face in the crook of her neck, something shifted tangibly between them—a good sign, as far as Rose was concerned, though it seemed to cause him some agitation. Dezel's breath caught, his every muscle and then some rigid against her; as Rose opened her eyes, she found the tip of his ear red in the firelight. Something was _wrong_.

"S-sorry," she panted, closing her eyes again and turning her face away from his in the hopes of setting him at ease. Accustomed as she was to one-night stands, along with a few off-and-on long-distance friendships-with-benefits, she had a habit of forgetting that actual _relationships_ required at least a little restraint, or they'd just burn themselves out too quickly. And to top it off, as though inexperience wasn't reason enough for Dezel to be tense in a more sensual situation than he had bargained for, insecurities as profound as his hardly helped matters.

"N-not your fault," responded Dezel with an apparent effort, sitting back on his haunches as Rose sat up tentatively beneath him… but before she could ascertain whether she'd imagined that telltale stir in his blood, he dissolved into a shimmer of green, and his presence settled into her core again—easily twice as warm as usual, as though his blush had carried over into the metaphysical.

Well, in Rose's book, the necessity of salvaging his dignity by disappearing was just as much of a confirmation as any sight her eyes could offer her. "Are you… hiding from me?"

" _No_!"

Rose smiled knowingly to herself at his immediate response. Yeah, he was definitely hiding from her. "Come on, get out here and talk to me," she wheedled. In her experience, seraphim could recover their forms pretty much instantly upon reentering their vessels, so he didn't really have an excuse anymore. "You _know_ how boring guard duty gets, and… we don't have to do that again if you don't want to."

"That's the _opposite_ of what I'm worried about," muttered Dezel, so quietly Rose guessed she wasn't meant to hear, and rushed on before she could say anything. "Look, we said 'after it's over' for a reason, right?"

Rose frowned, brought up short. "You… remember that?"

"Of course I remember that," scoffed Dezel, as though it should be obvious. "I held onto that memory as tightly as I could, because I thought it'd carry me through to the end. Except I found out the hard way that the world doesn't pull punches in the meantime just because we had an agreement, so…" His voice trailed off into a frustrated sigh, as though he'd said too much. "The _point_ is that we still can't afford to get distracted like that right now."

Dezel's tone sounded as halfhearted as it did harsh, as if he was trying more to persuade himself than Rose, but she knew better than to call him on it. In all likelihood, he'd shut down altogether at the first hint of opposition… and besides, there was nothing to be gained in pressuring him anyway. If the point of going further was to de-stress, and Dezel got _di_ stressed instead, then any enjoyment Rose might ordinarily have derived would be automatically nullified.

"All right, fine," conceded Rose, her voice so genuinely reassuring to her own ears that it almost startled her. She'd never taken kindly to not getting what she wanted, yet now, she couldn't even muster a playful pout. Though she couldn't have disagreed more with Dezel's reasoning, his clear reluctance to proceed beyond what they'd already done meant that she no longer felt like going any further in the first place.

He must have sensed Rose's calm acceptance, because he emerged to sit beside her once more, comfortingly close—although he still could not bring himself to look at her out of lingering embarrassment. Still, despite his tacit forgiveness, one thing still bothered her: if he'd held onto the memory of their conversation, what else had he retained? In the interest of avoiding sore spots so early in their relationship, Rose had refrained from asking about his memory, but the curiosity was beginning to overwhelm her…

"I have an idea," began Rose, and though Dezel finally looked over at her, he said nothing. "True or false," she continued, pointing at him so that her finger almost touched his nose. "I'll tell you something, and you tell me whether it really happened or I'm making it up. Maybe it'll jog your memory." Even if it didn't, she added privately, she'd at least get a better idea of the parameters of his amnesia. As it was, she knew basically nothing.

But Dezel hesitated. "I can tell the humans are sound asleep, but that's as far as the wind reaches," he murmured. "I can't be sure the other seraphim are sleeping, and the way they've been treating us lately, I wouldn't put eavesdropping past them."

Rose pursed her lips. "If you'd rather be alone, I guess I can see if Alisha will take the rest of my shift or something," she told him, glancing over at the princess. "But between you and me, I'm pretty sure everyone's tired enough from getting us through this storm that even if they overhear something they shouldn't, they're not gonna pay any attention."

Dezel shook his head. "Don't bother," he responded, feeling along the rim of his hat. "Waking someone would be more trouble than it's worth. They'd be even more likely to listen in if they think something's going on."

"You're a little paranoid," observed Rose, tilting her head. "They may tease us, but _spying_ on us isn't their style, and…" She had been about to say _and you know it_ , but stopped herself just in time. He probably didn't, anymore. "Look," she sighed, reaching over to rest her hand on his leg. "Even if worst comes to worst and someone overhears us, nobody's going to think less of you for having amnesia. You've come this far with us, haven't you?"

"I guess," mumbled Dezel, somewhat sulkily, but still could not or would not look at Rose. "But sometimes it feels like it was someone else that did it, and I'm just taking his place." He'd always been mistrustful, so it wasn't as though Rose didn't know how to deal with his natural desire for secrecy, but… she couldn't help but be a little disappointed all the same. She'd just gotten used to being able to talk to Dezel openly for once, and now she had to go back to coaxing and prodding.

"Not really," insisted Rose, and he finally jerked his head up to look at her. "I told you once, and I'll tell you again: you're _you_ , memories or not." She smiled. "Everyone changes over time, Dezel. Five years ago, I was a different Rose, and… it's not like I have too many memories from that time, either, but I kept on keeping on, and here I am." She shrugs. "Even if you're different now, that's not a _bad_ thing, and it doesn't make you another person. Okay? Okay."

"All right, all right," muttered Dezel, evidently trying to sound irritated, although the effect was ruined by his attempt to suppress a grateful smile. "There's no winning with you, is there?"

"Excuse me, I think you mean there's no _losing_ ," corrected Rose, crossing her arms in an exaggerated huff, but glanced back at him within the moment to find him still gazing thoughtfully at Sorey, as if trying to sense the seraphim deep within. "No matter what happens, you'll always be safe with us," she finished. "I promise. Now," she continued, eager to move on from awkward sentimentality, "true or false?"

"Whatever," was Dezel's only response, more in sheepish agreement than genuine defiance. Rose suspected that reluctance, falsified or not, was the only way he felt he could maintain his dignity through accepting her terms.

But the past was such an enormous pool to choose from; where should Rose begin…? "I couldn't see you until I met Sorey," she decided. Her circumstances for joining this journey were a good starting point.

"False." Rose frowned at Dezel's decisive response, opening her mouth to contradict him, but then he continued, "You had to become his Squire before your resonance was unlocked." He smiled at her astonishment. "It's not like I lost _everything_ , you know," he added, running his fingers along the brim of his hat almost proudly. "I told you I still remember a handful of moments since our journey started, and that's one of them."

Rose hummed faintly in response. She'd have to find something more obscure if she wanted to really test him, then… "Okay, Sergei thinks Sorey and I are married," she said. That was probably harder, since it wasn't as significant.

"Sergei," repeated Dezel slowly, frowning, and stared pensively into the fire. "His name sounds familiar, but I don't think I know him. Who is that, again?" His eyes flew wide even as he spoke. "Wait, he's that knight captain, right?" he continued, and Rose nodded. "But you'd have to be stupid to think you and Sorey are married, and even humans probably try not to put _stupid_ people in positions of power. I'm gonna go with false."

"Actually… it's true."

Dezel stared at her in shock. " _What_?"

"You didn't believe it back then, either," laughed Rose. "Yeah, I figured it was the best way to sneak the Shepherd into Lastonbell. I said he was my husband, and Lailah fabricated him a backstory as some pretentious noble." She shook her head. "Ironically, Sergei figured out he was the Shepherd right away, but believed the part about us being married."

Dezel shook his head in derisive disbelief, but Rose's mind was already engaged with figuring out her next question. Dezel clearly remembered significant moments and had lost track of more minor details, but what about events that didn't directly involve either of them? "Alisha has scars shaped like roses across her front, courtesy of Lunarre."

"True," said Dezel, and though his voice wasn't the most decisive, his response was at least immediate and correct. "That's a little hazy, but it's there. Not sure if I _remember_ it, exactly, but… I at least know it happened." He grimaced. "Bet she wishes I didn't, though."

Rose winced in bittersweet agreement, another question appearing in her mind even as she did so. All her questions had been from relatively recent times; how far back did his memory go? "You inherited your fighting style from Zaveid."

Dezel pursed his lips, but didn't take much time to think. "That _feels_ true," he responded, tilting his head and catching his hat as it started sliding off, "but I can't remember anything from that time, so I don't know for sure."

"You did," Rose told him. "But you didn't remember it back then, either. I guess that was kind of an unfair question to ask." So the _distant_ past was as off-limits as always—which was a disappointment, if not a surprise. But maybe if she asked about her more recent past, and threw in a 'false' for good measure… "I killed my first man when I was seven."

"I'm a seraph," pointed out Dezel, as though that much wasn't obvious. "I'm bad with ages. But… I still think that's false, because that was only a year or two after I found you, right?" he continued. "I might not remember much, but I _think_ it takes longer than that to learn to kill, especially if you're just a kid."

Rose pursed her lips. "Only by a little bit," she told him. "I was nine, and it was self-defense… sort of." She shuddered at the memory of grubby hands as big as her head, grabbing for her as she darted out of the way—how the man had pursued her—how she'd held up her knife to defend herself—how he'd tripped and fallen so that it pierced his heart. How long had it been since she'd thought of that memory?

And yet, the recollection tugged something else loose from her mind, unrelated, glistening…

"I'm a virgin." Rose didn't know what made her say it, but the words were out now, for better or for worse. Still, she couldn't help but curse her timing. If indeed she had a reason for asking, it was only out of curiosity; she wasn't trying to rekindle anything that had been extinguished, although undoubtedly it would come across that way.

The breeze caught like Dezel's breath as he turned his head slowly to stare at her. As he read her expression by sight alone this time, she found his countenance guarded, apprehensive… and then inscrutable as he murmured his response. His voice was far from confident, but it was clear he wasn't guessing as he answered, "False."

" _You're_ a virgin."

"True." Dezel dropped his gaze back into the fire as he spoke, reddening slightly, and Rose moistened her lips. Not that she hadn't guessed as much, but it seemed to explain so much about their relationship—even if only symbolically.

And, although Rose assumed there could be nothing more to say, Dezel cleared his throat slightly as if to continue, although several seconds of silence passed by before he did. "For you and me, it's all or nothing," he mumbled finally. "That's just how it is. I've been thinking about this a lot over the past few days, and even if I still can't really remember, I have… a _feeling_ … that I held myself back because I understood that the second you let me have a taste, I'd want everything, and it'd destroy you."

"You sure give yourself a lot of credit," teased Rose, before she could stop herself. "Didn't you just tell me you're a vir—?"

"Not like that!" snapped Dezel, turning a few shades darker, and pulled his hat down over his eyes. "I just mean that given the chance, I _know_ I'll take and take and never give anything back, just like my domain used to do. So, even if I did go behind my own back to talk to you, it still feels like I'd be betraying myself if I…" He trailed off, glancing aside self-consciously.

Rose nodded. "You don't have to justify yourself to me like this," she told him softly. "Whatever happens, or doesn't, happens—or doesn't. That's all there is to it." She looked him in the eye until he looked back. "Okay?"

Dezel gave her the ghost of a relieved smile. This must have been weighing on him more than she'd thought; no wonder he'd tensed up like he had, since they hadn't even had a chance to discuss it first. "Thanks."

"Hey, don't thank me," returned Rose, scooting over to punch Dezel lightly in the shoulder. "As I recall, the point of a relationship is to move at whatever pace is comfortable for both of us." Ordinarily, her words might have had more of a mischievous edge, or even a suggestive one… but this time, she spoke from her heart. (Gods, the transformative powers of love were amazing, and more than a little annoying. She probably owed Felice some money from a long-standing bet on her heart, she realized.)

Dezel let out a long breath, drawing her out of her thoughts of debt. "In any case, our next step is to kill Symonne," he stated, as casually as if he'd just said they needed to buy supplies. "I'll be able to think about us more once she's gone."

Rose nodded somewhat distractedly, fidgeting with her ring. As much as she agreed that she deserved nothing less than death, she couldn't help but wonder whether it might be more useful to leave Symonne alive and unwell, if only for the sole purpose of using her powers against their enemies.

"Shouldn't be too long now," she responded instead; there was no sense in bringing that up until it was actually relevant. "If Lailah's right, and the Elaine Ruins really are the road to Camlann, I'm sure we'll run into her within the next few days. But you'd better not keep all the glory for yourself, you hear?" she added, more sternly. "I've got a few lessons I'd like to beat into her before you finish her off."

Dezel grinned, reaching for her hand. "I could never hold you back from one of your missions," he murmured, taking her fingers in his own, and she strongly suspected he was using 'could' in all applicable senses of the word. He knew better than anyone that she was a force to be reckoned with, anyway. "However we do it, we'll do it together."

Rose laughed. "Somehow, I don't think it's normal for couples to bond over the enemies they're going to kill," she remarked, leaning in to peck his cheek. "Then again, we're not exactly normal. But seriously, I've put you through a lot tonight; you should sleep." She grins, sharp as Dezel's teeth; it feels as though they've done all they can do tonight, and now all that remains is to rest. "If we _do_ run into Symonne tomorrow and you slack off because you're too tired to fight right, I'm not leaving anything for you—deals be damned."

"Fine, fine," sighed Dezel, shaking his head. "I can't say that's _fair_ , exactly, but it's still something I know you'll do if you have an excuse, so…"

"Hey, watch it, seraph," complained Rose, but beamed at him all the same as he disappeared into her with a smile to end the conversation. Though she might ordinarily have complained at his abrupt departure, she felt his good-night wishes in her heart before she could say anything, and returned them with all the force of her own affection. Inconclusiveness had never felt so wholesome before.

* * *

 _Oof. Happy_ _ **extremely**_ _belated one-year anniversary to this fic! It's been a rough ride lately, but I'm still kicking. Definitely not half as quickly as I'd like, but I promise you all, I'm not about to abandon this altogether! So here's a little elaboration on their slightly-altered dynamic, since it was apparently too much to ask that anything actually happen even after all that time. Bear with me here; updates are likely to continue being on the slow end, although I hope to gods any hiatuses to come don't last six months at a time… (But as a sidenote, what better way to symbolize resurrection than updating on Easter Sunday?)_

 _By the by, for those of you who haven't heard already, I made a new tumblr, "tales-of-tales", specifically geared toward my Tales ideas in the hopes that having a clear space dedicated to it will encourage me to put things up more often. If any of you create anything based on this in future, that's where I'll be putting it… plus my headcanons, mini-fics I deem to be too short for ffnet, requests (including those pertaining to the universe of "Ring of Fate"), et cetera. Check it out if you feel like it, and if not, that's entirely okay! I don't have much up yet anyway, aside from a Dezerose AMV and a couple mental images… but if all goes well, I'll be able to work that into a proper Tales haven, like my other side blog is for Hakuōki._

 _ **queenofcats81:**_ _Well, if things weren't so great for you, I'm glad you at least got a smile out of that. :) Thanks for reassuring me even through your own less-than-fineness! I hope things have improved since then…_

 _ **lazycat66:**_ _Yeah, it only took them fifty freaking chapters… what a slowburn story this is. Agonizingly so, sometimes. Thank you for the support!_

 _ **NaotoShirogane:**_ _…Good point._

 _ **The Final Conduit:**_ _I'm so glad you think so!_

 _ **Arthur Moebius:**_ _Nope. Dezel's partial amnesia is a result of the trauma from having undergone a major form change and subsequent reversion. Good guess, though!_

 _ **sheltatha-lore:**_ _Another death?! *fans furiously* I gotta stop doing this to you guys!_

 _ **Anonymoose:**_ _Thanks for all the compliments and support! I'm so happy you liked that set of interactions. :D_

 _ **Kasuyorai:**_ _Thank you for the compliments! But to address your other points: as established during one of the above responses, Dezel's loss of memory is not the price of his oath, but the result of having turned into a dragon and back again, which also means that yes, he will retain his memories going forward. Furthermore, an oath doesn't have to be a restraint of power, given that a.) the point of an oath is actually to_ _ **augment**_ _power, and b.) Lailah's oath is simply a resolution not to speak of Maotelus or any related events in exchange for the ability to purify. Additionally, I understand why Dezel's confession would feel strange given his canon characterization, and I hesitate to say that he wouldn't have talked to Rose if he didn't have amnesia, but it was still his loss of the inhibitions caused by his memories that made him talk to her outright before the final battle. In other words, his loss of memory was not a plot point to get to the 'burn' in 'slowburn', but rather a natural effect of previous occurrences and a cause of future events in its turn._

 _ **SaRan1999:**_ _Congratulations on catching up! Your overwhelming enthusiasm for chapters past actually made me extremely apprehensive, given that I knew when and how you'd fall apart. Since you have to be crazy to write a fifty-chapter slowburn, and I'm far from sane, I ended up laughing maniacally when I got your reviews following Dezel's dragonization and Zaveid's death. So… there's really no need to thank me so often, although I am in turn grateful for your gratitude!_

 _ **Scarletia:**_ _Whoa whoa whoa, since when is this story marked 'Complete'?! I know I haven't updated in a long time, but I've made it as clear as I possibly can under the circumstances that I'm still working on it. Still, all jarring assumptions aside, I'd like to thank you for all the compliments! Often, I don't really notice my own passion for writing/shipping/replying to people, since it's so integral to myself, so it's nice to hear that it's appreciated~ And I miss Zaveid too; he's my favorite character. Wanting him back doesn't make you naïve in and of itself, but it would if you insisted I should have found some other way. (In which case, both he and I would laugh at you, and proceed as planned.) And speaking of plot progression, I'm sworn to secrecy as regards the direction of the story since—ya know—_ _ **it isn't over yet,**_ _but those are some educated guesses you got there. …Okay, okay, I'll let that go now; you just brushed up against a sore spot, that's all. It felt a bit like someone announcing my funeral before making sure I'm actually dead. But anyway, thank you so much for reading! I'm glad to have you along for the ride!_


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